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 Iceland and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin 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 Big Daddy Kane to the rap 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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control 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 '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 Delta 5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lyres,
The Last Poets,
Scratch Acid,
Johnny Clarke,
Bobby Byrd,
X-101,
Accadde A,
Pagans,
Easy Going,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jeff Mills,
K-Klass,
Buzzcocks,
A Certain Ratio,
cv313,
Archie Shepp,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Make Up,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Faraquet,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
AZ,
Bill Near,
Pharoah Sanders,
Talk Talk,
The Pop Group,
Eddi Front,
The Zeros,
The Residents,
Khruangbin,
Ronan,
Pere Ubu,
JFA,
Peter & Gordon,
L. Decosne,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Evens,
Jeff Lynne,
The Mojo Men,
Public Enemy,
Wally Richardson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The American Breed,
Blossom Toes,
Angry Samoans,
Radio Birdman,
The Slackers,
Goldenarms,
Lou Christie,
The Gladiators,
Piero Umiliani,
Sandy B,
Audionom,
Magazine,
Niagra,
T.S.O.L.,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
ABBA,
The Tremeloes,
One Last Wish,
Minutemen,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.