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 Kiribati and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Portland.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Surgeon to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Germs. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Derrick Morgan,
Curtis Mayfield,
John Coltrane,
Donald Byrd,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Das Ding,
Stiv Bators,
Mission of Burma,
Fela Kuti,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Brothers Johnson,
Bad Manners,
Porter Ricks,
Jerry's Kids,
The Selecter,
Boredoms,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jawbox,
Gabor Szabo,
Rekid,
Morten Harket,
Dennis Brown,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Move,
Steve Hackett,
Rod Modell,
The Remains,
Royal Trux,
E-Dancer,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Electric Prunes,
Altered Images,
Spoonie Gee,
Black Moon,
DJ Sneak,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Black Flag,
The Pop Group,
Harry Pussy,
Groovy Waters,
Surgeon,
Ornette Coleman,
New Order,
Ultimate Spinach,
Blancmange,
Yaz,
Newcleus,
Silicon Teens,
Donny Hathaway,
Lakeside,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fat Boys,
Faraquet,
Peter and Kerry,
Michelle Simonal,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.