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 Guyana and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Harmonia to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Freddie Wadling,
The Monks,
Heaven 17,
Qualms,
Pussy Galore,
Archie Shepp,
Sexual Harrassment,
Con Funk Shun,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dark Day,
The Count Five,
Urselle,
Marvin Gaye,
Procol Harum,
Slick Rick,
Hot Snakes,
Arab on Radar,
The Red Krayola,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cecil Taylor,
Inner City,
ABC,
Surgeon,
Delon & Dalcan,
Roy Ayers,
D'Angelo,
Bobby Byrd,
Quando Quango,
The Moody Blues,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Franke,
Brand Nubian,
Fugazi,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lou Christie,
Sonic Youth,
Juan Atkins,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Yaz,
Groovy Waters,
Masters at Work,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sex Pistols,
Gerry Rafferty,
Terry Callier,
Alphaville,
Ultra Naté,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lungfish,
Maurizio,
Todd Terry,
The Gories,
Scrapy,
The Velvet Underground,
Dorothy Ashby,
Erasure,
Pylon,
The United States of America,
Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis.
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.