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 Malawi and from Glasgow.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Marvin Gaye to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Michelle Simonal,
The Smoke,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Shoche,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Main Source,
Rotary Connection,
Faraquet,
The Victims,
Gang Starr,
Oblivians,
Gichy Dan,
Eli Mardock,
The Young Rascals,
U.S. Maple,
Los Fastidios,
Kerri Chandler,
Bill Near,
Ponytail,
Fugazi,
Pantaleimon,
Yellowson,
Babytalk,
Bush Tetras,
Tim Buckley,
Dennis Brown,
The Litter,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Throbbing Gristle,
Das Ding,
La Düsseldorf,
Cecil Taylor,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Terry Callier,
The Detroit Cobras,
Connie Case,
Johnny Clarke,
The New Christs,
ABBA,
Alton Ellis,
Skriet,
Newcleus,
Donny Hathaway,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Fugs,
Fad Gadget,
Joyce Sims,
Faust,
The Standells,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lalo Schifrin,
June Days,
Fela Kuti,
Boogie Down Productions,
Interpol,
Masters at Work,
Electric Light Orchestra,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.