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 Latvia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 rhodes 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 Schoolly D to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Barbara Tucker,
Mr. Review,
The Busters,
Bill Near,
Ken Boothe,
Excepter,
Gastr Del Sol,
June Days,
Albert Ayler,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Cure,
Barrington Levy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Model 500,
The Kinks,
Scan 7,
The Saints,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gang Green,
Public Enemy,
Radiohead,
Lucky Dragons,
Roxy Music,
The Searchers,
Ludus,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Robert Hood,
The Monochrome Set,
Dead Boys,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mantronix,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Star Department,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
D'Angelo,
Morten Harket,
Connie Case,
Yusef Lateef,
The Fortunes,
John Coltrane,
Urselle,
X-101,
Pantytec,
June of 44,
Dawn Penn,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Hashim,
Sam Rivers,
Bill Wells,
Soft Cell,
Negative Approach,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bronski Beat,
Davy DMX,
Monks,
Reuben Wilson,
Nils Olav,
Jerry's Kids,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.