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 St Lucia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Jeru the Damaja to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
The Last Poets,
The Mummies,
A Certain Ratio,
Pagans,
Reagan Youth,
Heaven 17,
Chrome,
June of 44,
Half Japanese,
Johnny Clarke,
Goldenarms,
Aswad,
Liliput,
Ten City,
Bronski Beat,
Lower 48,
Model 500,
Toni Rubio,
Grauzone,
Amazonics,
Juan Atkins,
Fluxion,
Howard Jones,
Pantaleimon,
The Trojans,
10cc,
Smog,
The Smiths,
8 Eyed Spy,
Grey Daturas,
Spandau Ballet,
Porter Ricks,
Black Pus,
Harry Pussy,
Kenny Larkin,
Flipper,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Slits,
Tim Buckley,
Radiopuhelimet,
Josef K,
Radio Birdman,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Normal,
Michelle Simonal,
Gang Green,
Hardrive,
Jacques Brel,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Wings,
Spoonie Gee,
The Five Americans,
Pantytec,
Bootsy Collins,
the Bar-Kays,
The Litter,
The Doors,
Ronan,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.