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 San Marino and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 arpeggiator 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 Tommy Roe to the electroclash 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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Gladiators,
Con Funk Shun,
Rekid,
Idris Muhammad,
ABBA,
Make Up,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bill Near,
Q65,
Boogie Down Productions,
Black Bananas,
F. McDonald,
cv313,
Black Pus,
Aaron Thompson,
A Certain Ratio,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
James White and The Blacks,
Popol Vuh,
Maurizio,
Icehouse,
Fear,
Groovy Waters,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Fortunes,
Stiv Bators,
The Neon Judgement,
Livin' Joy,
Jeff Mills,
Tres Demented,
Crooked Eye,
Panda Bear,
The Wake,
The Saints,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Janne Schatter,
Isaac Hayes,
Kas Product,
Man Eating Sloth,
Television Personalities,
The Happenings,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bobby Womack,
Outsiders,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Siglo XX,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Franke,
Slick Rick,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nico,
DNA,
Sällskapet,
Agent Orange,
Donald Byrd,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.