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 Gambia 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro 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 Simply Red to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Radio Birdman,
The Selecter,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ronan,
The Black Dice,
Faust,
Drexciya,
The Knickerbockers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Martian,
Adolescents,
Stereo Dub,
DJ Style,
Nik Kershaw,
Judy Mowatt,
Severed Heads,
Babytalk,
Barry Ungar,
Black Moon,
Newcleus,
Aural Exciters,
Idris Muhammad,
Sixth Finger,
Ossler,
Alice Coltrane,
Maleditus Sound,
Howard Jones,
Qualms,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Yellowson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Kinks,
Porter Ricks,
Hot Snakes,
One Last Wish,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
X-Ray Spex,
Scientists,
Desert Stars,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lou Christie,
Sonic Youth,
U.S. Maple,
Main Source,
Goldenarms,
PIL,
Public Image Ltd.,
Soft Cell,
Fear,
John Coltrane,
Clear Light,
L. Decosne,
10cc,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Zero Boys,
John Holt,
Von Mondo,
Oblivians,
Arthur Verocai,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.