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 Mali and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
The Associates,
Harmonia,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mad Mike,
Shuggie Otis,
Infiniti,
Shoche,
B.T. Express,
Peter and Kerry,
Robert Hood,
The Moody Blues,
Laurel Aitken,
Nick Fraelich,
The Fortunes,
Archie Shepp,
The Buckinghams,
The Gories,
Blancmange,
Boz Scaggs,
The Seeds,
Sällskapet,
Gang Gang Dance,
Guru Guru,
Harry Pussy,
The Black Dice,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
John Holt,
DNA,
Y Pants,
Matthew Bourne,
Derrick May,
Siglo XX,
The Count Five,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rapeman,
Aaron Thompson,
Popol Vuh,
Roxette,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Monks,
Negative Approach,
Radiohead,
Cymande,
Joy Division,
Organ,
Bluetip,
Mr. Review,
Eric Dolphy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Terry Callier,
The Birthday Party,
Andrew Hill,
Traffic Nightmare,
Joyce Sims,
Eli Mardock,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Patti Smith,
Easy Going,
Pantytec,
Visage,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.