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 Ghana and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Names to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
These Immortal Souls,
E-Dancer,
The Misunderstood,
Ten City,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Groovy Waters,
Guru Guru,
Crime,
Black Bananas,
Prince Buster,
Flipper,
Joey Negro,
Idris Muhammad,
Barbara Tucker,
Heaven 17,
The Real Kids,
Jerry's Kids,
Don Cherry,
The Count Five,
James White and The Blacks,
The Victims,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fall,
Robert Hood,
8 Eyed Spy,
Morten Harket,
CMW,
JFA,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
ABC,
The Modern Lovers,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Joe Smooth,
Con Funk Shun,
Terry Callier,
The New Christs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lakeside,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Barracudas,
Mad Mike,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Laurel Aitken,
The Grass Roots,
kango's stein massive,
Audionom,
Organ,
The Gories,
Lyres,
Tommy Roe,
Charles Mingus,
Mr. Review,
the Swans,
The Seeds,
Piero Umiliani,
The Doobie Brothers,
David Bowie,
Sarah Menescal,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Suburban Knight,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.