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 Kuwait and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Fire Engines to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Idris Muhammad,
Pere Ubu,
Jeru the Damaja,
Excepter,
John Coltrane,
John Holt,
Pet Shop Boys,
X-101,
Pylon,
Maleditus Sound,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Alison Limerick,
Bluetip,
Tom Boy,
The Evens,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Erasure,
Ossler,
Rosa Yemen,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Scratch Acid,
The Misunderstood,
Eddi Front,
The Zeros,
Jawbox,
CMW,
Siglo XX,
Desert Stars,
Bobby Womack,
Lyres,
K-Klass,
Steve Hackett,
Lucky Dragons,
Minor Threat,
Henry Cow,
Wire,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Outsiders,
Davy DMX,
Deepchord,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Negative Approach,
Bauhaus,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
B.T. Express,
Gang Gang Dance,
H. Thieme,
Rapeman,
Khruangbin,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Beau Brummels,
Mission of Burma,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lower 48,
Monks,
The Buckinghams,
Juan Atkins,
Gong,
Supertramp,
Whodini,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.