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 Peru and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Wolf Eyes to the techno 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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
David Axelrod,
Cybotron,
Altered Images,
Jacob Miller,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nils Olav,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Slick Rick,
Boz Scaggs,
The Index,
a-ha,
The Slackers,
The Fuzztones,
Scrapy,
Ossler,
Freddie Wadling,
Soulsonic Force,
Model 500,
Yaz,
Porter Ricks,
Tom Boy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Yazoo,
Drexciya,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Evens,
The United States of America,
Mantronix,
The Birthday Party,
Roxette,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gang of Four,
Ten City,
Technova,
the Normal,
Mr. Review,
Fear,
Soul II Soul,
Angry Samoans,
Prince Buster,
Ludus,
Harpers Bizarre,
Public Enemy,
Sugar Minott,
Liliput,
Don Cherry,
Fugazi,
This Heat,
June Days,
Nik Kershaw,
Lungfish,
Curtis Mayfield,
Subhumans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Arthur Verocai,
DJ Sneak,
Boogie Down Productions,
Agitation Free,
Lightning Bolt,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Chris & Cosey,
Spoonie Gee,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.