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 Guinea and from Houston.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gang Starr to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
Deakin,
The Searchers,
Hashim,
Adolescents,
Pylon,
The Detroit Cobras,
Boredoms,
Infiniti,
Jesper Dahlback,
Yusef Lateef,
DNA,
X-Ray Spex,
Guru Guru,
Arthur Verocai,
The Star Department,
Outsiders,
B.T. Express,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Andrew Hill,
The Smoke,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Toni Rubio,
a-ha,
Procol Harum,
Smog,
Ohio Players,
Supertramp,
Cal Tjader,
Gang of Four,
John Holt,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Moody Blues,
The Mojo Men,
Jeru the Damaja,
Delon & Dalcan,
Freddie Wadling,
Eve St. Jones,
Mandrill,
Liliput,
Man Parrish,
The Blues Magoos,
the Swans,
Mars,
Archie Shepp,
Groovy Waters,
The Cramps,
Main Source,
Ultravox,
Arab on Radar,
The Beau Brummels,
The Leaves,
Nils Olav,
Gastr Del Sol,
Shoche,
Derrick May,
L. Decosne,
E-Dancer,
Dorothy Ashby,
Skriet,
The Fall,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.