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 Tunisia and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Sugar Minott,
Excepter,
World's Most,
the Slits,
X-102,
New Age Steppers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mars,
The Modern Lovers,
Quando Quango,
Wally Richardson,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Soft Cell,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Charles Mingus,
The Associates,
Tropical Tobacco,
OOIOO,
Faraquet,
Roy Ayers,
Gang Starr,
Theoretical Girls,
Tom Boy,
Inner City,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jeff Mills,
Sixth Finger,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Soft Machine,
The Victims,
the Swans,
Youth Brigade,
Lalann,
B.T. Express,
Funkadelic,
Ossler,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Soul II Soul,
Dead Boys,
The Blues Magoos,
The Grass Roots,
Ronnie Foster,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Susan Cadogan,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Association,
Guru Guru,
Terry Callier,
Fela Kuti,
Robert Hood,
The Motions,
June of 44,
The New Christs,
Dave Gahan,
Sun City Girls,
DJ Style,
Girls At Our Best!,
Khruangbin,
Tres Demented,
Sandy B,
Flipper,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.