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 Russia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bologna.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Nick Fraelich to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Amon Düül II,
Quantec,
Little Man,
Hasil Adkins,
Pierre Henry,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Moby Grape,
New Age Steppers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Intrusion,
John Cale,
Traffic Nightmare,
This Heat,
Aswad,
Roy Ayers,
Soulsonic Force,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Electric Prunes,
The Motions,
Deepchord,
Saccharine Trust,
The Cramps,
The Toasters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Doors,
The Gories,
Theoretical Girls,
World's Most,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Accadde A,
The Five Americans,
The Searchers,
Negative Approach,
The Birthday Party,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Colin Newman,
Sonic Youth,
Cameo,
Sugar Minott,
Roxette,
Althea and Donna,
Second Layer,
Mandrill,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Faust,
Man Eating Sloth,
Angry Samoans,
Parry Music,
Yazoo,
Dark Day,
Schoolly D,
The Skatalites,
The Knickerbockers,
David Bowie,
Altered Images,
John Holt,
Gang of Four,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.