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 Poland and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Deepchord to the electroclash 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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Sugar Minott,
Michelle Simonal,
Dennis Brown,
The Red Krayola,
Harpers Bizarre,
David Bowie,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Hasil Adkins,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sandy B,
Stereo Dub,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Happenings,
The Walker Brothers,
John Coltrane,
Eurythmics,
Porter Ricks,
LL Cool J,
The Wake,
Frankie Knuckles,
Index,
Urselle,
Ronan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Loose Ends,
Moss Icon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Cowsills,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Pussy Galore,
Dave Gahan,
Ornette Coleman,
The Golliwogs,
Lebanon Hanover,
Camberwell Now,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Arcadia,
The Offenders,
Accadde A,
The Blues Magoos,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Cure,
Janne Schatter,
Don Cherry,
Kenny Larkin,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Half Japanese,
Deadbeat,
Average White Band,
Simply Red,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Sonics,
Warsaw,
R.M.O.,
Underground Resistance,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
John Foxx,
EPMD,
Crooked Eye,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.