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 Guinea and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Seoul.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ten City to the rap 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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Johnny Clarke,
Lakeside,
Blancmange,
X-101,
The Zeros,
Slave,
X-102,
Althea and Donna,
Bill Near,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ohio Players,
Niagra,
The Residents,
Grauzone,
Maurizio,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Funkadelic,
the Association,
The Red Krayola,
Darondo,
Ten City,
Pylon,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Moleskins,
Black Pus,
Essential Logic,
Donald Byrd,
Con Funk Shun,
Jawbox,
Nils Olav,
Q and Not U,
Cybotron,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
John Lydon,
Swans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ossler,
DNA,
Pharoah Sanders,
10cc,
The Durutti Column,
Jacques Brel,
Robert Görl,
Circle Jerks,
The Move,
The Monks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Magazine,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Soul Sonic Force,
James Chance & The Contortions,
cv313,
Oneida,
Danielle Patucci,
Sugar Minott,
Curtis Mayfield,
Brass Construction,
Todd Rundgren,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.