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 Iraq and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
La Düsseldorf,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eric B and Rakim,
Camberwell Now,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nils Olav,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Parry Music,
Sparks,
The Fire Engines,
Bush Tetras,
Cheater Slicks,
Intrusion,
Unrelated Segments,
Sam Rivers,
These Immortal Souls,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ralphi Rosario,
Roxy Music,
Dark Day,
Black Sheep,
Faust,
Gang Green,
Soul Sonic Force,
Y Pants,
Procol Harum,
Matthew Halsall,
Joy Division,
Von Mondo,
Quando Quango,
A Certain Ratio,
Babytalk,
Tres Demented,
Supertramp,
MC5,
The Monks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Talk Talk,
the Normal,
Stereo Dub,
The Barracudas,
Deepchord,
The Martian,
Liliput,
Prince Buster,
The Electric Prunes,
the Association,
Tubeway Army,
Lee Hazlewood,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nas,
Echospace,
Con Funk Shun,
Au Pairs,
Unwound,
Terry Callier,
Blancmange,
The American Breed,
Camouflage,
Ohio Players,
Pharoah Sanders,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.