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 Panama and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 E-Dancer to the grime 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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day 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 an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Jimmy McGriff,
Oneida,
Blossom Toes,
Girls At Our Best!,
Public Enemy,
The Victims,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Normal,
Mantronix,
The Shadows of Knight,
Trumans Water,
The Doobie Brothers,
Moby Grape,
Suicide,
Fugazi,
Spandau Ballet,
The Invisible,
The Misunderstood,
KRS-One,
Smog,
Section 25,
Talk Talk,
Graham Central Station,
Bill Wells,
the Swans,
Yazoo,
Bob Dylan,
The Names,
Country Teasers,
Neil Young,
Zapp,
Dennis Brown,
Boredoms,
Johnny Osbourne,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Angry Samoans,
Ornette Coleman,
The Busters,
UT,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kurtis Blow,
Qualms,
Pet Shop Boys,
Outsiders,
Terry Callier,
Jawbox,
Roxette,
Sonic Youth,
Depeche Mode,
The Modern Lovers,
The Zeros,
Ten City,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Smoke,
These Immortal Souls,
the Sonics,
Aaron Thompson,
Cecil Taylor,
Eric B and Rakim,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.