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 Afghanistan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Holger Czukay 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 Judy Mowatt to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Aswad,
Yaz,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Public Enemy,
Lower 48,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Fat Boys,
Mark Hollis,
Sonic Youth,
Alphaville,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Crispian St. Peters,
Black Pus,
Newcleus,
The Index,
The Dirtbombs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Vainqueur,
Shoche,
Soft Machine,
Spandau Ballet,
Zero Boys,
Slave,
Banda Bassotti,
Essential Logic,
Scrapy,
Dennis Brown,
Man Eating Sloth,
Monks,
Livin' Joy,
Skaos,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The United States of America,
Drive Like Jehu,
Byron Stingily,
Toni Rubio,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jeru the Damaja,
Porter Ricks,
Duran Duran,
Alton Ellis,
Deadbeat,
Sound Behaviour,
Tom Boy,
Liliput,
Inner City,
Bill Near,
The Moody Blues,
Silicon Teens,
Fear,
Bauhaus,
Nico,
New York Dolls,
Funky Four + One,
Sister Nancy,
The Barracudas,
Bobby Sherman,
Kerri Chandler,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ituana,
Laurel Aitken,
The Star Department,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.