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 Slovenia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Blancmange to the crunk 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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Barry Ungar,
Marmalade,
Althea and Donna,
Byron Stingily,
Boz Scaggs,
Ludus,
Thompson Twins,
Heaven 17,
Hot Snakes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Stetsasonic,
Fad Gadget,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rosa Yemen,
Sugar Minott,
John Holt,
Joe Smooth,
Oblivians,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jeff Lynne,
Marshall Jefferson,
Moss Icon,
Swell Maps,
Whodini,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ohio Players,
Franke,
Deadbeat,
Wings,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Residents,
Gabor Szabo,
Minny Pops,
Cymande,
Shoche,
Susan Cadogan,
Yaz,
Soul II Soul,
The Move,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Skaos,
The Count Five,
The Invisible,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Soul Sonic Force,
Agitation Free,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tom Boy,
Severed Heads,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sight & Sound,
Duran Duran,
Urselle,
Parry Music,
Cal Tjader,
Echospace,
Lindisfarne,
World's Most,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.