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 Turkmenistan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Duran Duran to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Scan 7,
Dorothy Ashby,
Albert Ayler,
Urselle,
Ice-T,
The Monochrome Set,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rakim,
Lungfish,
Joy Division,
Patti Smith,
Zapp,
E-Dancer,
John Holt,
Delon & Dalcan,
Brand Nubian,
Deadbeat,
Agitation Free,
Morten Harket,
Aloha Tigers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ronan,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fuzztones,
Cameo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Terry Callier,
Leonard Cohen,
Grandmaster Flash,
AZ,
The Shadows of Knight,
Thompson Twins,
Bluetip,
The Flesh Eaters,
R.M.O.,
Funkadelic,
Amon Düül,
Robert Görl,
Donny Hathaway,
Stereo Dub,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Normal,
Easy Going,
Monks,
The Fire Engines,
X-Ray Spex,
The Human League,
Talk Talk,
Bauhaus,
The American Breed,
Derrick May,
Quantec,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Human League,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.