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 Slovenia and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Slick Rick to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Radiohead. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
The Music Machine,
The Pop Group,
The Doobie Brothers,
Andrew Hill,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pharoah Sanders,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ponytail,
Fatback Band,
Tim Buckley,
Outsiders,
Sugar Minott,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Motorama,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rites of Spring,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Ultra Naté,
The Martian,
Mark Hollis,
The Beau Brummels,
Blake Baxter,
Bluetip,
Ronnie Foster,
Vainqueur,
Accadde A,
The American Breed,
the Swans,
World's Most,
Neu!,
Kerrie Biddell,
Swans,
Scott Walker,
The Saints,
Interpol,
Brand Nubian,
Con Funk Shun,
Sällskapet,
Wolf Eyes,
Grauzone,
Thee Headcoats,
Inner City,
Unwound,
Wire,
Hasil Adkins,
Pere Ubu,
Zapp,
The Gladiators,
Harry Pussy,
Lightning Bolt,
Saccharine Trust,
Infiniti,
Main Source,
Sight & Sound,
Bobby Womack,
Junior Murvin,
Bronski Beat,
The Standells,
Don Cherry,
Tubeway Army,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.