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 Swaziland and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Big Daddy Kane to the electroclash 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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sugar Minott,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Fugs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bobbi Humphrey,
A Certain Ratio,
Chrome,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sex Pistols,
Lyres,
Youth Brigade,
The Leaves,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Infiniti,
Supertramp,
The Detroit Cobras,
D'Angelo,
Deepchord,
The Gun Club,
Tommy Roe,
Charles Mingus,
Jeff Mills,
Scientists,
Brick,
Boz Scaggs,
Main Source,
Maurizio,
David Axelrod,
Patti Smith,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Victims,
Nick Fraelich,
Public Enemy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ornette Coleman,
David Bowie,
Bronski Beat,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Andrew Hill,
Pet Shop Boys,
Neil Young,
The Five Americans,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Silicon Teens,
Rosa Yemen,
Aswad,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Blackbyrds,
Quando Quango,
Soft Machine,
T. Rex,
The Red Krayola,
The Trojans,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Saccharine Trust,
Tim Buckley,
Von Mondo,
Barry Ungar,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.