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 Madagascar and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Doors to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Flipper,
Brothers Johnson,
Cheater Slicks,
Tim Buckley,
the Bar-Kays,
Gang of Four,
The New Christs,
Youth Brigade,
Pulsallama,
Dead Boys,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Dave Clark Five,
Hardrive,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Mojo Men,
A Certain Ratio,
Oblivians,
Althea and Donna,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Gladiators,
The Sonics,
Marmalade,
Eric B and Rakim,
Skriet,
Boogie Down Productions,
Joe Finger,
Cecil Taylor,
Jawbox,
Slick Rick,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Yaz,
The Fire Engines,
Ken Boothe,
Lower 48,
Mars,
Schoolly D,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nas,
Sam Rivers,
Jacques Brel,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Banda Bassotti,
The Move,
The Detroit Cobras,
Altered Images,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Black Bananas,
The Angels of Light,
Gabor Szabo,
Delon & Dalcan,
June Days,
the Normal,
John Holt,
Kenny Larkin,
F. McDonald,
Idris Muhammad,
Jerry's Kids,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.