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 Guatemala and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 DNA to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Interpol,
Lou Reed,
Yusef Lateef,
Nils Olav,
Lakeside,
Cameo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dennis Brown,
Letta Mbulu,
Soft Cell,
Nik Kershaw,
James White and The Blacks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Wake,
Ohio Players,
Wolf Eyes,
Can,
The Blackbyrds,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Leaves,
Au Pairs,
the Normal,
Agitation Free,
Colin Newman,
Ituana,
Man Eating Sloth,
Hashim,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
David McCallum,
H. Thieme,
Bluetip,
Faust,
The Toasters,
John Foxx,
Black Pus,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Joensuu 1685,
AZ,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Motions,
John Coltrane,
Moebius,
Stiv Bators,
Yellowson,
Robert Wyatt,
Von Mondo,
Q and Not U,
Negative Approach,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bush Tetras,
Half Japanese,
Cal Tjader,
Angry Samoans,
MDC,
Peter & Gordon,
Bronski Beat,
Minnie Riperton,
The Last Poets,
Faraquet,
Eric Dolphy,
The Moleskins,
Blake Baxter,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.