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 Israel and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Houston.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mantronix to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ossler 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Bobby Womack,
Groovy Waters,
Stockholm Monsters,
New Order,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Minnie Riperton,
The New Christs,
the Bar-Kays,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eden Ahbez,
Quando Quango,
Black Bananas,
Can,
Cheater Slicks,
Inner City,
Oblivians,
Connie Case,
Camberwell Now,
DJ Style,
Delta 5,
Tubeway Army,
Section 25,
kango's stein massive,
Television Personalities,
John Coltrane,
Barbara Tucker,
Pere Ubu,
Bad Manners,
Sex Pistols,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Henry Cow,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jawbox,
Liliput,
Joe Finger,
Adolescents,
Deepchord,
Jeff Lynne,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Supertramp,
Gang Gang Dance,
Terry Callier,
Public Enemy,
John Cale,
Cal Tjader,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Smog,
Avey Tare,
John Holt,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
X-101,
Davy DMX,
The Sound,
H. Thieme,
Archie Shepp,
Black Sheep,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.