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 Chad and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 808 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 Minny Pops to the grunge 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 Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
The Gories,
John Foxx,
Neu!,
Ponytail,
Crime,
K-Klass,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bang On A Can,
Delon & Dalcan,
In Retrospect,
Monks,
The Happenings,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Half Japanese,
The Techniques,
Byron Stingily,
Funky Four + One,
Max Romeo,
The Martian,
Supertramp,
Sun City Girls,
The Human League,
The Victims,
Fela Kuti,
The Knickerbockers,
Moebius,
Talk Talk,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tomorrow,
Ludus,
Michelle Simonal,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Godley & Creme,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Golliwogs,
Bluetip,
Minutemen,
the Slits,
Tears for Fears,
Symarip,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
A Certain Ratio,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Colin Newman,
Soft Machine,
Depeche Mode,
David Axelrod,
Andrew Hill,
Marmalade,
This Heat,
Cal Tjader,
The Evens,
Unwound,
Eric B and Rakim,
B.T. Express,
Lee Hazlewood,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bush Tetras,
Khruangbin,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.