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 Liberia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the snare 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 Rites of Spring 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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fluxion 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?
Bush Tetras,
Magma,
Alton Ellis,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ornette Coleman,
The Flesh Eaters,
X-102,
The Human League,
Hasil Adkins,
Avey Tare,
The Monks,
Cameo,
Echospace,
Lucky Dragons,
ABC,
Camouflage,
Swell Maps,
Carl Craig,
Barry Ungar,
Piero Umiliani,
The Selecter,
The Grass Roots,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mr. Review,
Schoolly D,
Bobby Byrd,
Scott Walker,
The Raincoats,
David McCallum,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The J.B.'s,
Harry Pussy,
The Names,
Soft Machine,
Bobby Womack,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marc Almond,
Warren Ellis,
The Count Five,
Mantronix,
Yusef Lateef,
Cymande,
Alice Coltrane,
Soft Cell,
Smog,
U.S. Maple,
Buzzcocks,
Metal Thangz,
D'Angelo,
Technova,
Aloha Tigers,
ABBA,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Fortunes,
Infiniti,
The Motions,
Cluster,
Davy DMX,
Hoover,
F. McDonald,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
John Coltrane,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.