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 South Africa and from Bologna.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the techno 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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Big Daddy Kane,
Anthony Braxton,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kurtis Blow,
Black Sheep,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Invisible,
Intrusion,
Rod Modell,
Trumans Water,
Man Eating Sloth,
Altered Images,
Youth Brigade,
Wolf Eyes,
Urselle,
The Move,
Joe Finger,
The Beau Brummels,
Charles Mingus,
This Heat,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tears for Fears,
Pierre Henry,
The Pretty Things,
La Düsseldorf,
The Red Krayola,
Amazonics,
Jandek,
Deadbeat,
The Shadows of Knight,
Amon Düül II,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ken Boothe,
The Sound,
48th St. Collective,
The Gun Club,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lower 48,
Supertramp,
The Associates,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Accadde A,
Fatback Band,
Camberwell Now,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Modern Lovers,
The Moleskins,
Sun Ra,
Absolute Body Control,
Main Source,
Los Fastidios,
Hoover,
The Offenders,
Q65,
The Skatalites,
Tubeway Army,
Skaos,
Bobby Byrd,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Cowsills,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.