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 Cuba and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 arpeggiator 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 Absolute Body Control to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Boogie Down Productions,
Janne Schatter,
Avey Tare,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nils Olav,
Procol Harum,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Stetsasonic,
Laurel Aitken,
The Litter,
Bob Dylan,
One Last Wish,
LL Cool J,
Wally Richardson,
Ronnie Foster,
10cc,
Alison Limerick,
Whodini,
The Sound,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dark Day,
John Cale,
Bauhaus,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Franke,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Trojans,
Tropical Tobacco,
Grauzone,
Cluster,
Skarface,
Rites of Spring,
KRS-One,
E-Dancer,
Rufus Thomas,
Black Bananas,
Make Up,
Skriet,
Pet Shop Boys,
Deepchord,
La Düsseldorf,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Golliwogs,
Freddie Wadling,
David Bowie,
Hardrive,
Colin Newman,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Unwound,
Harry Pussy,
Al Stewart,
Andrew Hill,
James White and The Blacks,
Nik Kershaw,
Nick Fraelich,
Siglo XX,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.