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 Tunisia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 organ 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 Ronnie Foster to the grime 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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
Los Fastidios,
Grey Daturas,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fad Gadget,
The Shadows of Knight,
Moebius,
Joey Negro,
Funkadelic,
Technova,
Lou Christie,
Adolescents,
Camouflage,
Livin' Joy,
Max Romeo,
Spoonie Gee,
Mad Mike,
Todd Rundgren,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Barbara Tucker,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Moleskins,
Bill Wells,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Swans,
Sun Ra,
Chris Corsano,
Junior Murvin,
Hashim,
Rotary Connection,
Rites of Spring,
Suicide,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eve St. Jones,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
AZ,
Robert Görl,
Young Marble Giants,
Model 500,
The Cowsills,
Quadrant,
Con Funk Shun,
T. Rex,
Johnny Clarke,
Fatback Band,
Mars,
The Mummies,
Boogie Down Productions,
La Düsseldorf,
Soft Machine,
Bush Tetras,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
EPMD,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Black Dice,
Vainqueur,
John Coltrane,
Joyce Sims,
Gang Starr,
Cymande,
Flash Fearless,
Warren Ellis,
The Associates,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.