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 Netherlands and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 Copenhagen and Madrid.
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 sitar 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 Theoretical Girls to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Interpol,
Warsaw,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Peter & Gordon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pierre Henry,
Jacques Brel,
The Sonics,
Blake Baxter,
The Sound,
Television,
The New Christs,
Wings,
Organ,
48th St. Collective,
Roy Ayers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Underground Resistance,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lalann,
Monks,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Y Pants,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mad Mike,
The Divine Comedy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fad Gadget,
Duran Duran,
The Mojo Men,
Wolf Eyes,
Make Up,
Jesper Dahlback,
Crispian St. Peters,
Arab on Radar,
Altered Images,
Arthur Verocai,
EPMD,
Marc Almond,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Glenn Branca,
Derrick Morgan,
Althea and Donna,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Von Mondo,
Letta Mbulu,
Hoover,
The Zeros,
Kaleidoscope,
The Knickerbockers,
Scan 7,
Ponytail,
Scientists,
Black Flag,
The Count Five,
The Mummies,
New Age Steppers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.