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 Papua New Guinea and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 organ 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the techno 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a cv313 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Reuben Wilson,
Jawbox,
New Order,
Pylon,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Music Machine,
The J.B.'s,
Tres Demented,
Young Marble Giants,
Massinfluence,
Public Enemy,
Charles Mingus,
Man Parrish,
Minny Pops,
Cecil Taylor,
Black Sheep,
The Cramps,
La Düsseldorf,
Kenny Larkin,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sex Pistols,
Camberwell Now,
Tears for Fears,
A Certain Ratio,
The Victims,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bauhaus,
David Axelrod,
KRS-One,
Lightning Bolt,
Franke,
the Germs,
Panda Bear,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Thee Headcoats,
Rod Modell,
Kool Moe Dee,
One Last Wish,
Average White Band,
Make Up,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Underground Resistance,
Rosa Yemen,
Barclay James Harvest,
Althea and Donna,
Sun Ra,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Fat Boys,
Cybotron,
Television,
FM Einheit,
Mark Hollis,
Scion,
In Retrospect,
Deadbeat,
Section 25,
Robert Görl,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Camouflage,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.