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 United Kingdom and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 David Bowie 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 Desert Stars to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ken Boothe,
Qualms,
The Moleskins,
X-Ray Spex,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Freddie Wadling,
the Association,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Second Layer,
Wally Richardson,
The Happenings,
Marvin Gaye,
Gong,
New Age Steppers,
New Order,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sister Nancy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Angels of Light,
Ornette Coleman,
The Associates,
Babytalk,
Outsiders,
Angry Samoans,
Model 500,
B.T. Express,
Crispian St. Peters,
This Heat,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scan 7,
The Gun Club,
Kayak,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cymande,
Y Pants,
Graham Central Station,
John Holt,
Yusef Lateef,
Bluetip,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Gap Band,
the Sonics,
Minutemen,
Ultravox,
The Electric Prunes,
Country Teasers,
Oblivians,
Jacques Brel,
David Axelrod,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Knickerbockers,
JFA,
UT,
Wasted Youth,
The Moody Blues,
Funkadelic,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Durutti Column,
Mars,
KRS-One,
Amazonics,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.