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 Turkmenistan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Rotary Connection to the crunk 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Surgeon,
Scratch Acid,
Black Bananas,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pole,
DJ Sneak,
Rhythm & Sound,
Section 25,
Sun City Girls,
Ralphi Rosario,
Mission of Burma,
Sam Rivers,
Scion,
Pylon,
Aaron Thompson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Chris & Cosey,
Ultravox,
John Coltrane,
Soft Machine,
Swans,
World's Most,
Ornette Coleman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ponytail,
Dead Boys,
Hot Snakes,
Second Layer,
Letta Mbulu,
Fela Kuti,
Gichy Dan,
Wings,
Porter Ricks,
Wire,
Sällskapet,
Hasil Adkins,
Faraquet,
David Axelrod,
Faust,
Tropical Tobacco,
La Düsseldorf,
Joey Negro,
Stiv Bators,
Rosa Yemen,
Young Marble Giants,
OOIOO,
Lucky Dragons,
Crash Course in Science,
Oneida,
Model 500,
Marmalade,
Eric Copeland,
Susan Cadogan,
Cheater Slicks,
The J.B.'s,
Peter & Gordon,
Yusef Lateef,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.