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 Peru and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 K-Klass to the rap 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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Animal Collective,
Marvin Gaye,
the Fania All-Stars,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jawbox,
Tim Buckley,
Marshall Jefferson,
Outsiders,
Man Eating Sloth,
Underground Resistance,
John Holt,
R.M.O.,
A Certain Ratio,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tomorrow,
The Cure,
Mad Mike,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eddi Front,
David Bowie,
The Cramps,
Au Pairs,
the Swans,
The Knickerbockers,
Vainqueur,
Quando Quango,
Yaz,
Delon & Dalcan,
Glambeats Corp.,
Michelle Simonal,
Monks,
Ronan,
The Move,
Barrington Levy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Harry Pussy,
Blake Baxter,
The Wake,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lower 48,
Reagan Youth,
Absolute Body Control,
Barry Ungar,
The J.B.'s,
Bill Wells,
Bad Manners,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Hoover,
Tres Demented,
The New Christs,
Pantytec,
The Dead C,
Carl Craig,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Busters,
Cymande,
Robert Hood,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.