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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb 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 Carl Craig to the jazz 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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All EPMD tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma 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 a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
LL Cool J,
Zero Boys,
Heaven 17,
Carl Craig,
the Sonics,
Banda Bassotti,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Delta 5,
Magma,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rod Modell,
Ohio Players,
Anthony Braxton,
Funky Four + One,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Tears for Fears,
Siglo XX,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
AZ,
Drexciya,
Sugar Minott,
Alphaville,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Nick Fraelich,
Anakelly,
Bluetip,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
New Age Steppers,
Sixth Finger,
Electric Prunes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jawbox,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gang Starr,
Prince Buster,
Gang Green,
The Selecter,
The Misunderstood,
Essential Logic,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dawn Penn,
The Durutti Column,
Cymande,
Bob Dylan,
Rufus Thomas,
Inner City,
Johnny Osbourne,
Colin Newman,
The Happenings,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Normal,
The Knickerbockers,
Black Pus,
Underground Resistance,
Funkadelic,
Flash Fearless,
the Germs,
Model 500,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.