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 Lebanon and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tehran.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Young Marble Giants 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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Frankie Knuckles,
Warren Ellis,
Lou Reed,
Zapp,
Soft Cell,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ituana,
Gang Starr,
Marmalade,
UT,
Index,
The Zeros,
Guru Guru,
8 Eyed Spy,
MC5,
The Doobie Brothers,
Urselle,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mark Hollis,
Archie Shepp,
Aural Exciters,
Gabor Szabo,
Matthew Bourne,
Donald Byrd,
Leonard Cohen,
Maleditus Sound,
Soul II Soul,
the Human League,
Chris & Cosey,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Standells,
Minny Pops,
Quantec,
Barrington Levy,
The Index,
The Dead C,
Nils Olav,
Josef K,
Shoche,
Carl Craig,
The Slackers,
Tomorrow,
Patti Smith,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Angry Samoans,
Rufus Thomas,
Aaron Thompson,
Nico,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Brass Construction,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Derrick May,
The Fortunes,
Rekid,
John Lydon,
Ultimate Spinach,
Black Pus,
Groovy Waters,
Man Eating Sloth,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.