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 Singapore and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Gerry Rafferty,
Public Enemy,
Terry Callier,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The New Christs,
Quando Quango,
The Offenders,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Skatalites,
K-Klass,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fall,
The Shadows of Knight,
Connie Case,
Derrick May,
Motorama,
Kaleidoscope,
Ituana,
Outsiders,
In Retrospect,
48th St. Collective,
Maleditus Sound,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Smiths,
The Durutti Column,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Slits,
Monks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Gun Club,
Sun Ra,
Michelle Simonal,
Patti Smith,
Franke,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Buzzcocks,
Idris Muhammad,
The Fortunes,
Royal Trux,
Leonard Cohen,
The United States of America,
Pantytec,
Peter & Gordon,
Excepter,
Drive Like Jehu,
Crime,
Blake Baxter,
The Fire Engines,
MDC,
The Sound,
Kerri Chandler,
The Detroit Cobras,
China Crisis,
Siglo XX,
Kas Product,
Gabor Szabo,
The Monochrome Set,
Fear,
The Selecter,
Ken Boothe,
Tres Demented,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.