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 Dominican Republic and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 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 H. Thieme to the crunk 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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
UT,
The Monks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Spoonie Gee,
Delta 5,
Sex Pistols,
The Five Americans,
Idris Muhammad,
Slave,
Bobby Sherman,
The Blackbyrds,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Echospace,
Man Eating Sloth,
Y Pants,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Skriet,
Bauhaus,
Jawbox,
Soft Cell,
Groovy Waters,
Carl Craig,
Erykah Badu,
Tim Buckley,
Janne Schatter,
Flipper,
Livin' Joy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Basic Channel,
Brick,
Black Bananas,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ken Boothe,
Brand Nubian,
Sound Behaviour,
Gichy Dan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Skarface,
Sugar Minott,
The Buckinghams,
10cc,
Joy Division,
New Age Steppers,
X-102,
the Association,
John Coltrane,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Model 500,
La Düsseldorf,
Sparks,
Cheater Slicks,
Fluxion,
Nico,
Gang of Four,
Lou Christie,
Tubeway Army,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Warren Ellis,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.