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 Botswana and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ultimate Spinach to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
the Human League,
Robert Görl,
Grauzone,
Amon Düül,
Alice Coltrane,
Rosa Yemen,
Bill Wells,
Flash Fearless,
Crooked Eye,
Unwound,
Matthew Bourne,
The Victims,
New York Dolls,
Tom Boy,
The Neon Judgement,
Roger Hodgson,
The Knickerbockers,
Avey Tare,
Yellowson,
Chris & Cosey,
Aloha Tigers,
Surgeon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Yusef Lateef,
Bush Tetras,
Slick Rick,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bill Near,
Infiniti,
Cybotron,
Eric Dolphy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Livin' Joy,
Junior Murvin,
Siglo XX,
Bob Dylan,
Liliput,
Hardrive,
Agitation Free,
Radio Birdman,
Eric B and Rakim,
Boredoms,
Accadde A,
Carl Craig,
Spandau Ballet,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nas,
Depeche Mode,
The Leaves,
Morten Harket,
Easy Going,
Shuggie Otis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Young Rascals,
Sixth Finger,
Zero Boys,
KRS-One,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
FM Einheit,
The Wake,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.