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 Peru and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Martian to the grime 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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Jesus and Mary Chain 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Jeff Mills,
T.S.O.L.,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Graham Central Station,
Patti Smith,
The Associates,
Cybotron,
Robert Görl,
Aswad,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Piero Umiliani,
Tomorrow,
Lindisfarne,
Altered Images,
The Dirtbombs,
Isaac Hayes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
T. Rex,
Faraquet,
Q and Not U,
Hardrive,
Outsiders,
Eli Mardock,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bronski Beat,
Barry Ungar,
Buzzcocks,
KRS-One,
The Walker Brothers,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Sonics,
Man Parrish,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Los Fastidios,
The Index,
Scientists,
The Blackbyrds,
Motorama,
The Angels of Light,
The Dead C,
Intrusion,
Sällskapet,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fifty Foot Hose,
X-101,
John Holt,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rufus Thomas,
Stereo Dub,
Pharoah Sanders,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Connie Case,
Judy Mowatt,
48th St. Collective,
Magma,
Jeff Lynne,
Wally Richardson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cymande,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.