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 Dominica and from Taipei.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the punk 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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Spandau Ballet,
Delta 5,
Boz Scaggs,
Fat Boys,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Cure,
Danielle Patucci,
Rakim,
Avey Tare,
The Moleskins,
Public Enemy,
Pylon,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Stereo Dub,
The Martian,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Desert Stars,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pulsallama,
Andrew Hill,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Stooges,
Junior Murvin,
Tears for Fears,
Marvin Gaye,
the Germs,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Model 500,
Fatback Band,
Scratch Acid,
Arthur Verocai,
Arcadia,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Toasters,
Tom Boy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sarah Menescal,
Tubeway Army,
Spoonie Gee,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rufus Thomas,
Susan Cadogan,
The Pretty Things,
Simply Red,
The Dirtbombs,
New York Dolls,
The Kinks,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Dave Gahan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ludus,
the Slits,
Cymande,
Minor Threat,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Shoche,
T.S.O.L.,
Jacques Brel,
kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive.
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.