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 Canada and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 organ 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 Lou Christie to the dance 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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soulsonic Force,
John Coltrane,
D'Angelo,
The Associates,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Pretty Things,
Babytalk,
Eve St. Jones,
Bluetip,
Hasil Adkins,
Clear Light,
Zero Boys,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Martian,
Curtis Mayfield,
Heaven 17,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Doors,
Sonic Youth,
Kayak,
Jesper Dahlback,
Q65,
X-101,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Sound,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Electric Prunes,
Throbbing Gristle,
Agent Orange,
Jandek,
The Fall,
Crash Course in Science,
Gichy Dan,
Patti Smith,
Hot Snakes,
Reagan Youth,
Average White Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Mr. Review,
Nas,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Maurizio,
Trumans Water,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Newcleus,
The Moody Blues,
Au Pairs,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kerri Chandler,
AZ,
Ituana,
the Association,
Cabaret Voltaire,
10cc,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Suicide,
Tommy Roe,
Half Japanese,
the Slits,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.