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 Malta and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Qualms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Moody Blues,
Section 25,
The Dead C,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Moebius,
Idris Muhammad,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Misunderstood,
JFA,
Vladislav Delay,
Mandrill,
Rakim,
Bronski Beat,
Shoche,
Essential Logic,
Bauhaus,
Icehouse,
Camouflage,
the Swans,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Fall,
The Blackbyrds,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marvin Gaye,
Jacques Brel,
Crispy Ambulance,
Steve Hackett,
Scratch Acid,
Jimmy McGriff,
U.S. Maple,
Arthur Verocai,
The Golliwogs,
Brothers Johnson,
Thee Headcoats,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jawbox,
Sällskapet,
Soft Cell,
Metal Thangz,
Black Pus,
Yellowson,
Delta 5,
David McCallum,
Reagan Youth,
Cymande,
Kevin Saunderson,
Susan Cadogan,
Minny Pops,
The Zeros,
Aloha Tigers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gong,
Mars,
A Certain Ratio,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Khruangbin,
Pagans,
Fela Kuti,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.