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 Ireland and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ohio Players to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Ice-T,
The United States of America,
Pharoah Sanders,
Aaron Thompson,
Eve St. Jones,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Public Enemy,
Khruangbin,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Saints,
the Sonics,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gong,
John Foxx,
Main Source,
Funkadelic,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Severed Heads,
The Seeds,
Girls At Our Best!,
Interpol,
Panda Bear,
Sexual Harrassment,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Black Dice,
The Knickerbockers,
X-102,
Theoretical Girls,
Bill Near,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Durutti Column,
Inner City,
Zapp,
Arcadia,
Thee Headcoats,
Tomorrow,
The Pretty Things,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bob Dylan,
Letta Mbulu,
The Dead C,
Wasted Youth,
Sun City Girls,
The Fall,
Rapeman,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Con Funk Shun,
Audionom,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Max Romeo,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wings,
Faraquet,
The Doors,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Quando Quango,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nation of Ulysses,
Minutemen,
Magma,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans.
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.