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 Portugal and from Toronto.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the dance 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 Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
Mars,
John Lydon,
Barclay James Harvest,
Stereo Dub,
Black Moon,
The Shadows of Knight,
John Coltrane,
Pagans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Derrick Morgan,
Stockholm Monsters,
Brass Construction,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marshall Jefferson,
Goldenarms,
Faraquet,
Harmonia,
Grandmaster Flash,
Newcleus,
Mission of Burma,
Bang On A Can,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Slackers,
The Cowsills,
The Fire Engines,
Blancmange,
Graham Central Station,
Letta Mbulu,
The United States of America,
Oblivians,
Bronski Beat,
Procol Harum,
Max Romeo,
The Knickerbockers,
Zapp,
Soul II Soul,
Sixth Finger,
Junior Murvin,
Shuggie Otis,
EPMD,
Television,
Funkadelic,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Last Poets,
The Pop Group,
The J.B.'s,
Ken Boothe,
MC5,
Kurtis Blow,
OOIOO,
Mary Jane Girls,
48th St. Collective,
Tommy Roe,
Livin' Joy,
The Victims,
DJ Style,
Heaven 17,
Aural Exciters,
the Normal,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.