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 Bolivia and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Harry Pussy to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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?
Kool Moe Dee,
Nation of Ulysses,
Crispian St. Peters,
Terrestrial Tones,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Minor Threat,
Sugar Minott,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mars,
The Leaves,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jacques Brel,
Kurtis Blow,
Infiniti,
New Age Steppers,
Tres Demented,
Bronski Beat,
Japan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
La Düsseldorf,
London Community Gospel Choir,
John Foxx,
Rufus Thomas,
Lungfish,
In Retrospect,
June of 44,
Scan 7,
L. Decosne,
Khruangbin,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ossler,
Swans,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Magma,
Sonic Youth,
T.S.O.L.,
This Heat,
The Five Americans,
Ponytail,
Mad Mike,
Ultravox,
The Sonics,
The Neon Judgement,
Eric Dolphy,
Todd Terry,
Gregory Isaacs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Neil Young,
The Angels of Light,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Silicon Teens,
Soul II Soul,
the Bar-Kays,
Davy DMX,
Sam Rivers,
Tommy Roe,
Jeff Mills,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.