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 Seychelles and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Andrew Hill to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
The Associates,
DJ Style,
Don Cherry,
Hot Snakes,
Bobby Byrd,
The Raincoats,
Lyres,
John Lydon,
The Walker Brothers,
Country Teasers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sparks,
John Cale,
Bobby Womack,
Anthony Braxton,
Donald Byrd,
Young Marble Giants,
Whodini,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Quadrant,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Alice Coltrane,
Ken Boothe,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lungfish,
Connie Case,
Amon Düül,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lower 48,
Maleditus Sound,
Dual Sessions,
James White and The Blacks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Standells,
Pagans,
The Fall,
Charles Mingus,
The Durutti Column,
John Coltrane,
Ludus,
Blossom Toes,
Visage,
Boogie Down Productions,
Black Moon,
Minor Threat,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Basic Channel,
Thee Headcoats,
Echospace,
The Slackers,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sun City Girls,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Electric Prunes,
Anakelly,
UT,
OOIOO,
Pierre Henry,
Kayak,
The Pop Group,
Duran Duran,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.