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 Senegal and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Dirtbombs to the grime 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 Cymande. All the underground hits.
All Yaz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators 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 a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sight & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
The Tremeloes,
Theoretical Girls,
Sonic Youth,
Eric Dolphy,
Eve St. Jones,
Lyres,
The Divine Comedy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Sheep,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Gap Band,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Magma,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pharoah Sanders,
Eurythmics,
Marshall Jefferson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Spoonie Gee,
F. McDonald,
Ultravox,
MC5,
Althea and Donna,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Masters at Work,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
OOIOO,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Amazonics,
Peter & Gordon,
Monolake,
The Names,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Visage,
Cluster,
Saccharine Trust,
Nik Kershaw,
Animal Collective,
Leonard Cohen,
Black Pus,
Ponytail,
Eddi Front,
Fela Kuti,
Desert Stars,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Jeff Mills,
Slave,
Piero Umiliani,
The Gun Club,
Con Funk Shun,
Mr. Review,
Slick Rick,
The Misunderstood,
David Axelrod,
One Last Wish,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Grass Roots,
The Stooges,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.