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 Angola and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Marcia Griffiths,
T. Rex,
Sound Behaviour,
Adolescents,
Motorama,
World's Most,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Soft Cell,
Alice Coltrane,
John Coltrane,
The Searchers,
A Certain Ratio,
Technova,
The Fugs,
AZ,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Yaz,
Robert Görl,
Royal Trux,
Bush Tetras,
Scott Walker,
Banda Bassotti,
Sugar Minott,
Tommy Roe,
Thompson Twins,
Monolake,
The Zeros,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Visage,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Nas,
Slick Rick,
The Angels of Light,
Joe Smooth,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ituana,
Grauzone,
The Evens,
Make Up,
Sonic Youth,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Hot Snakes,
Black Flag,
Matthew Halsall,
John Holt,
Steve Hackett,
Pantaleimon,
Warren Ellis,
Ronan,
Patti Smith,
Minnie Riperton,
Fatback Band,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Amazonics,
Pulsallama,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Clear Light,
Marmalade,
Ice-T,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.