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 Cameroon and from Bremen.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 güiro 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 One Last Wish to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Ten City,
London Community Gospel Choir,
In Retrospect,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Erasure,
Kurtis Blow,
Echospace,
Todd Terry,
48th St. Collective,
Gastr Del Sol,
Wire,
Ultra Naté,
Zero Boys,
Pylon,
B.T. Express,
The Stooges,
Glambeats Corp.,
Charles Mingus,
Section 25,
Cecil Taylor,
UT,
Youth Brigade,
Rekid,
Marcia Griffiths,
Drive Like Jehu,
Faust,
Graham Central Station,
Franke,
Pierre Henry,
Los Fastidios,
The Monochrome Set,
June of 44,
Talk Talk,
The Slackers,
The Raincoats,
Aural Exciters,
Aloha Tigers,
New York Dolls,
Public Image Ltd.,
Matthew Bourne,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Doors,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Divine Comedy,
Massinfluence,
The Seeds,
Simply Red,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Michelle Simonal,
cv313,
Deepchord,
Avey Tare,
Junior Murvin,
The Move,
Juan Atkins,
Severed Heads,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.