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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Eve St. Jones to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hasil Adkins,
L. Decosne,
Roger Hodgson,
Severed Heads,
Ken Boothe,
Harmonia,
The Toasters,
Fat Boys,
The Slackers,
Buzzcocks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Graham Central Station,
The Birthday Party,
Minnie Riperton,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Tommy Roe,
Spoonie Gee,
Lindisfarne,
The Residents,
DJ Style,
Leonard Cohen,
Warren Ellis,
Circle Jerks,
Thee Headcoats,
Spandau Ballet,
Eric Copeland,
Brand Nubian,
Symarip,
Iggy Pop,
Aloha Tigers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Erasure,
Bobby Womack,
The Move,
Nas,
Ten City,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Josef K,
Japan,
Scratch Acid,
Man Parrish,
Masters at Work,
Minor Threat,
Guru Guru,
The New Christs,
Infiniti,
Monolake,
The Kinks,
The Black Dice,
Marc Almond,
Television Personalities,
Terry Callier,
Fluxion,
Rufus Thomas,
PIL,
Crooked Eye,
Mission of Burma,
Sparks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Janne Schatter,
Whodini,
Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis.
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.