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 Sudan and from Milan.
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 Sao Paulo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Larry & the Blue Notes to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Lightning Bolt,
D'Angelo,
Crash Course in Science,
David Bowie,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Slackers,
Cybotron,
Pussy Galore,
Essential Logic,
Black Moon,
Country Teasers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Livin' Joy,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sam Rivers,
Joe Smooth,
The Angels of Light,
Gang Green,
Thee Headcoats,
Grauzone,
Drexciya,
Howard Jones,
Radio Birdman,
Jerry's Kids,
R.M.O.,
Mars,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Monks,
Minor Threat,
Electric Prunes,
Max Romeo,
Groovy Waters,
Minutemen,
The Shadows of Knight,
Symarip,
Hasil Adkins,
New Age Steppers,
the Sonics,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rufus Thomas,
Lower 48,
Brothers Johnson,
Mark Hollis,
The United States of America,
Young Marble Giants,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
EPMD,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lalann,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Harmonia,
Public Enemy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
New Order,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eddi Front,
Quadrant,
X-Ray Spex,
Inner City,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.