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 South Sudan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Pole,
Bill Wells,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ossler,
Niagra,
Roger Hodgson,
Public Enemy,
Funky Four + One,
The Remains,
New Age Steppers,
Cymande,
Amazonics,
Quando Quango,
The Techniques,
Little Man,
The Standells,
Archie Shepp,
Khruangbin,
Bobby Byrd,
Procol Harum,
Bill Near,
Wings,
F. McDonald,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Josef K,
Young Marble Giants,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Arcadia,
The Seeds,
Barclay James Harvest,
Angry Samoans,
Cluster,
Joy Division,
Joensuu 1685,
Eurythmics,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tubeway Army,
Thee Headcoats,
Joey Negro,
Kevin Saunderson,
Moebius,
Minutemen,
Joe Smooth,
Inner City,
Matthew Halsall,
Lou Reed,
the Bar-Kays,
The Buckinghams,
DNA,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Excepter,
The Music Machine,
Flash Fearless,
The Smiths,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Suicide,
Nik Kershaw,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.