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 Jamaica and from Accra.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Shadows of Knight to the punk 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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Mills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nils Olav,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Don Cherry,
Hot Snakes,
Talk Talk,
The Residents,
Scrapy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Suicide,
Joey Negro,
The Smiths,
Kerri Chandler,
Spoonie Gee,
Gabor Szabo,
Basic Channel,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Roy Ayers,
Jeff Mills,
Silicon Teens,
Boz Scaggs,
Moby Grape,
The Monks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gil Scott Heron,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Animal Collective,
The Blues Magoos,
Lower 48,
10cc,
The Zeros,
The Saints,
DNA,
Skaos,
Thee Headcoats,
Yellowson,
Prince Buster,
Pulsallama,
Colin Newman,
The Real Kids,
Minor Threat,
Excepter,
Lucky Dragons,
Hardrive,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Slits,
Anthony Braxton,
Big Daddy Kane,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Arthur Verocai,
Cameo,
Niagra,
Blancmange,
Index,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.