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 Gabon and from Accra.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 linndrum 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Anthony Braxton,
Panda Bear,
Minor Threat,
Brass Construction,
Derrick Morgan,
The Durutti Column,
Tears for Fears,
The Seeds,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Magma,
Peter & Gordon,
Kenny Larkin,
FM Einheit,
The Move,
Soulsonic Force,
Babytalk,
Aswad,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Barracudas,
The Names,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Neon Judgement,
Sarah Menescal,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Basic Channel,
The Cramps,
The Mummies,
Spandau Ballet,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Misunderstood,
Alton Ellis,
Sugar Minott,
Frankie Knuckles,
MDC,
The Blues Magoos,
48th St. Collective,
The Index,
Drive Like Jehu,
Derrick May,
Q65,
Public Enemy,
The Electric Prunes,
X-Ray Spex,
Soul Sonic Force,
Robert Görl,
Radiopuhelimet,
Yaz,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ralphi Rosario,
Main Source,
Unwound,
Bauhaus,
the Swans,
Japan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Electric Prunes,
Duran Duran,
Eyeless In Gaza,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.