Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Kiribati and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Martian to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rahsaan Roland Kirk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Index,
D'Angelo,
DJ Sneak,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Althea and Donna,
Pantytec,
Judy Mowatt,
Lalann,
The Litter,
Nils Olav,
This Heat,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Babytalk,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kaleidoscope,
EPMD,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Saints,
Stereo Dub,
Fela Kuti,
Matthew Halsall,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Real Kids,
Yazoo,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Oblivians,
Blossom Toes,
Section 25,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Mojo Men,
Roger Hodgson,
Bush Tetras,
Parry Music,
Eli Mardock,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ronan,
New Order,
Marc Almond,
K-Klass,
Nation of Ulysses,
Silicon Teens,
Fluxion,
Bill Wells,
The Fuzztones,
Thee Headcoats,
The J.B.'s,
Marvin Gaye,
Motorama,
Crispy Ambulance,
Brothers Johnson,
Roy Ayers,
Aaron Thompson,
Country Teasers,
Easy Going,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.