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 Bangladesh and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Slackers to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cymande. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
The Move,
B.T. Express,
Au Pairs,
Technova,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Excepter,
The Gap Band,
Chrome,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kerri Chandler,
Audionom,
Interpol,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Altered Images,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
ABBA,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Susan Cadogan,
Marc Almond,
Matthew Halsall,
Ossler,
Motorama,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Buzzcocks,
Aural Exciters,
The Gories,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Dirtbombs,
Desert Stars,
Masters at Work,
The Associates,
The Moody Blues,
Whodini,
Arcadia,
Crime,
Terrestrial Tones,
Marine Girls,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Funky Four + One,
Scrapy,
Shuggie Otis,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Black Dice,
Anthony Braxton,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Zapp,
Nick Fraelich,
The Angels of Light,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Can,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Depeche Mode,
Rakim,
Swell Maps,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.