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 Mozambique and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun City Girls 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?
Andrew Hill,
Pulsallama,
Rapeman,
Khruangbin,
John Coltrane,
Procol Harum,
Yusef Lateef,
Black Pus,
Franke,
The Selecter,
Lyres,
Big Daddy Kane,
Marshall Jefferson,
Spandau Ballet,
E-Dancer,
Mr. Review,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soul II Soul,
Peter and Kerry,
The Modern Lovers,
Black Bananas,
The Tremeloes,
Q65,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Avey Tare,
The Raincoats,
Gang Starr,
Saccharine Trust,
Sixth Finger,
Slick Rick,
Lindisfarne,
Loose Ends,
Electric Prunes,
JFA,
UT,
Faraquet,
Derrick Morgan,
Gang Green,
Make Up,
Pantaleimon,
Kenny Larkin,
The Neon Judgement,
John Lydon,
The Angels of Light,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Blackbyrds,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Scion,
Los Fastidios,
Model 500,
Von Mondo,
Sound Behaviour,
10cc,
This Heat,
The Cure,
DJ Style,
Das Ding,
Robert Görl,
Unrelated Segments,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.