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 Sudan and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the rap 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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
The Grass Roots,
Judy Mowatt,
This Heat,
Soulsonic Force,
The Zeros,
The Mojo Men,
the Swans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Crooked Eye,
LL Cool J,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Blackbyrds,
Surgeon,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Black Bananas,
Matthew Bourne,
Crash Course in Science,
Sandy B,
Sällskapet,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Section 25,
The Gladiators,
The Residents,
Minny Pops,
June of 44,
the Bar-Kays,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
David McCallum,
Lindisfarne,
The Beau Brummels,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Joensuu 1685,
Tropical Tobacco,
Yazoo,
The Victims,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gabor Szabo,
Quantec,
Panda Bear,
Brothers Johnson,
Mo-Dettes,
Sight & Sound,
Lakeside,
Nils Olav,
the Germs,
Eric B and Rakim,
Saccharine Trust,
Pulsallama,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Sound,
Jeff Lynne,
Wings,
Dennis Brown,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Erykah Badu,
Alton Ellis,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.