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 Bolivia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 snare 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kerri Chandler,
Skriet,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Wings,
Quando Quango,
The Slits,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ultra Naté,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bluetip,
Echospace,
Sonic Youth,
Fugazi,
K-Klass,
Beasts of Bourbon,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Busters,
Isaac Hayes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Thee Headcoats,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Moebius,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Monochrome Set,
The Blackbyrds,
L. Decosne,
The Remains,
John Cale,
Terry Callier,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Derrick May,
Alton Ellis,
F. McDonald,
Pylon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Albert Ayler,
Judy Mowatt,
Nick Fraelich,
James White and The Blacks,
Black Pus,
In Retrospect,
E-Dancer,
Aural Exciters,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sparks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Boogie Down Productions,
Reuben Wilson,
Iggy Pop,
Dual Sessions,
Dennis Brown,
The Sonics,
Visage,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Move,
The Gun Club,
Joey Negro,
Suburban Knight,
the Sonics,
Yazoo,
Sister Nancy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.