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 Cuba and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Robert Palmer 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 Raincoats to the rap 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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
The Searchers,
Unrelated Segments,
Zapp,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Leaves,
Maleditus Sound,
Joensuu 1685,
Ken Boothe,
The Offenders,
Subhumans,
The Grass Roots,
June of 44,
Severed Heads,
In Retrospect,
Slave,
Wasted Youth,
Angry Samoans,
Throbbing Gristle,
kango's stein massive,
Banda Bassotti,
Sound Behaviour,
The Star Department,
Sly & The Family Stone,
FM Einheit,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Red Krayola,
Schoolly D,
Charles Mingus,
Althea and Donna,
Anthony Braxton,
KRS-One,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Supertramp,
The Dirtbombs,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Spoonie Gee,
Icehouse,
X-101,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Donny Hathaway,
Anakelly,
Jacob Miller,
Joyce Sims,
Gerry Rafferty,
Niagra,
Pere Ubu,
Make Up,
Amon Düül II,
Joy Division,
Second Layer,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Mummies,
Arthur Verocai,
The Seeds,
Blancmange,
Stockholm Monsters,
Television Personalities,
Public Image Ltd.,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.