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 Ireland and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gong to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
The American Breed,
Surgeon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Byron Stingily,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scrapy,
Trumans Water,
Warsaw,
Carl Craig,
Intrusion,
Minnie Riperton,
Ronnie Foster,
Silicon Teens,
Boz Scaggs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Clear Light,
Blake Baxter,
Man Parrish,
Donny Hathaway,
Man Eating Sloth,
Model 500,
Soulsonic Force,
The Moleskins,
Vladislav Delay,
Arab on Radar,
Scott Walker,
Symarip,
Audionom,
The Star Department,
Eddi Front,
Tim Buckley,
Sound Behaviour,
Josef K,
Gastr Del Sol,
Faust,
Soft Machine,
Livin' Joy,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Slackers,
The Dave Clark Five,
Supertramp,
The Last Poets,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Slick Rick,
Aural Exciters,
Sex Pistols,
Lyres,
Smog,
Schoolly D,
Sandy B,
Avey Tare,
Sun Ra,
Brothers Johnson,
Patti Smith,
Porter Ricks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.