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 Senegal and from Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 spring reverb 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 Groovy Waters to the electroclash 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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Lyres,
Pet Shop Boys,
Adolescents,
Easy Going,
Rites of Spring,
Cheater Slicks,
Sällskapet,
The Young Rascals,
Pagans,
Q65,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Dual Sessions,
The Cramps,
Black Bananas,
John Lydon,
Suburban Knight,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Aswad,
a-ha,
Crispy Ambulance,
Au Pairs,
Chris Corsano,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lalann,
Kerrie Biddell,
Motorama,
The Five Americans,
Amazonics,
The Neon Judgement,
Crooked Eye,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Cybotron,
Deakin,
Bill Wells,
Blossom Toes,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Qualms,
Kevin Saunderson,
Graham Central Station,
Wasted Youth,
Country Teasers,
E-Dancer,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Music Machine,
Hardrive,
Minutemen,
Albert Ayler,
Cecil Taylor,
The United States of America,
Black Pus,
Kenny Larkin,
Gong,
Lou Christie,
Deadbeat,
Todd Terry,
Skriet,
Laurel Aitken,
T.S.O.L.,
Aaron Thompson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.