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 Nauru and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Remains to the crunk 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 Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bauhaus,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kerrie Biddell,
Talk Talk,
Mantronix,
Rekid,
Bronski Beat,
The Victims,
Arab on Radar,
The Techniques,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Amon Düül II,
Roxette,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lindisfarne,
Judy Mowatt,
The New Christs,
Country Teasers,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Toasters,
Moby Grape,
Leonard Cohen,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Nas,
Boredoms,
Zapp,
Black Sheep,
Franke,
The Red Krayola,
The Walker Brothers,
Alice Coltrane,
James Chance & The Contortions,
John Lydon,
The United States of America,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sällskapet,
Jimmy McGriff,
Robert Wyatt,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lakeside,
Eric Copeland,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tres Demented,
ABBA,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
kango's stein massive,
JFA,
The Leaves,
Chris & Cosey,
Quadrant,
Desert Stars,
The Offenders,
Newcleus,
The Misunderstood,
Sugar Minott,
Agent Orange,
Curtis Mayfield,
Inner City,
F. McDonald,
Eden Ahbez,
DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace.
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.