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 United States and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manchester.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Johnny Osbourne to the disco 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 The Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green 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 an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
The Cowsills,
JFA,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Eric B and Rakim,
John Foxx,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Brick,
Ronnie Foster,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Dirtbombs,
Albert Ayler,
Sam Rivers,
Mars,
Grandmaster Flash,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Cymande,
The Mojo Men,
Unrelated Segments,
Sun Ra,
U.S. Maple,
Jeff Mills,
Jeru the Damaja,
Parry Music,
Rites of Spring,
DNA,
The Velvet Underground,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bill Near,
Motorama,
The Detroit Cobras,
Eddi Front,
LL Cool J,
Tomorrow,
Deakin,
Make Up,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ash Ra Tempel,
New Age Steppers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Hasil Adkins,
kango's stein massive,
Con Funk Shun,
Ohio Players,
KRS-One,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Anthony Braxton,
Stetsasonic,
Mandrill,
The Last Poets,
The Selecter,
Godley & Creme,
Alice Coltrane,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Saints,
a-ha,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sight & Sound,
Niagra,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.