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 Korea South and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Taipei.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
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 Royal Trux to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
The Durutti Column,
Talk Talk,
Black Pus,
Make Up,
Freddie Wadling,
Desert Stars,
Jacques Brel,
The Techniques,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Isaac Hayes,
Maleditus Sound,
Bluetip,
Ornette Coleman,
Trumans Water,
Deakin,
the Swans,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Masters at Work,
John Coltrane,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bill Wells,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lucky Dragons,
Davy DMX,
Todd Rundgren,
Alice Coltrane,
Mandrill,
Don Cherry,
Franke,
Peter & Gordon,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jacob Miller,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pharoah Sanders,
a-ha,
Eric B and Rakim,
Derrick Morgan,
Ituana,
Jandek,
Wasted Youth,
Zapp,
The Detroit Cobras,
Carl Craig,
Half Japanese,
Rekid,
Gerry Rafferty,
Wolf Eyes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Beau Brummels,
Rufus Thomas,
Lindisfarne,
Rapeman,
Con Funk Shun,
Cluster,
The Slackers,
Flipper,
Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX.
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.