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 Russia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Columbus.
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 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 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 Cameo to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Blossom Toes,
K-Klass,
Duran Duran,
D'Angelo,
The J.B.'s,
The Cure,
Joey Negro,
The Remains,
Groovy Waters,
Lou Reed,
Eli Mardock,
Skaos,
Minor Threat,
Brothers Johnson,
John Lydon,
Magma,
The Real Kids,
DJ Style,
June Days,
Banda Bassotti,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Durutti Column,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Human League,
Lindisfarne,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
New Age Steppers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Organ,
Harry Pussy,
Pole,
Tears for Fears,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Loose Ends,
Althea and Donna,
Tom Boy,
Fat Boys,
Lightning Bolt,
Bob Dylan,
Simply Red,
Stockholm Monsters,
Shuggie Otis,
the Association,
Prince Buster,
Rakim,
kango's stein massive,
Jeff Mills,
Sam Rivers,
Todd Terry,
EPMD,
The Buckinghams,
Cameo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Symarip,
Idris Muhammad,
The Skatalites,
Suicide,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.