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 Dominica and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 harpsichord 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 John Lydon to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Das Ding,
Fugazi,
Neil Young,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sun Ra,
Tommy Roe,
Don Cherry,
One Last Wish,
the Soft Cell,
Joey Negro,
Harry Pussy,
E-Dancer,
Sight & Sound,
10cc,
Ohio Players,
Anthony Braxton,
Brothers Johnson,
Terrestrial Tones,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Rufus Thomas,
Cheater Slicks,
Main Source,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jeff Lynne,
Avey Tare,
The Remains,
Traffic Nightmare,
Shoche,
The J.B.'s,
Rites of Spring,
John Cale,
Thee Headcoats,
Gastr Del Sol,
Connie Case,
Crash Course in Science,
Mary Jane Girls,
Leonard Cohen,
Drive Like Jehu,
Metal Thangz,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Heaven 17,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Radiohead,
Wire,
Brand Nubian,
Talk Talk,
Ultra Naté,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
a-ha,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fatback Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gong,
Scion,
Boredoms,
Q and Not U,
Bill Wells,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.