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 Mongolia and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Sao Paulo.
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 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 The Leaves to the techno 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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra Arkestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Boogie Down Productions,
Junior Murvin,
Reuben Wilson,
Tubeway Army,
Parry Music,
Godley & Creme,
Isaac Hayes,
Deepchord,
Organ,
The Gladiators,
Fugazi,
LL Cool J,
Connie Case,
Easy Going,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Slits,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ossler,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
June of 44,
Procol Harum,
Arcadia,
The Zeros,
Grandmaster Flash,
MDC,
The Mojo Men,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Cal Tjader,
Skaos,
the Sonics,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Throbbing Gristle,
Peter and Kerry,
Donny Hathaway,
Television Personalities,
The J.B.'s,
8 Eyed Spy,
Johnny Clarke,
Dave Gahan,
Donald Byrd,
The Standells,
This Heat,
10cc,
Depeche Mode,
T. Rex,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Soft Cell,
ABC,
Basic Channel,
The Evens,
Scratch Acid,
Au Pairs,
Chris Corsano,
Colin Newman,
Scan 7,
Lucky Dragons,
Minny Pops,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.