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 Azerbaijan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Jacob Miller to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Star Department. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Guru Guru 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Zero Boys,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Flipper,
Kurtis Blow,
Robert Hood,
Marshall Jefferson,
Neil Young,
The Index,
the Germs,
John Cale,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pantytec,
H. Thieme,
Scrapy,
John Foxx,
Pierre Henry,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Henry Cow,
The Cramps,
Joyce Sims,
K-Klass,
Radiohead,
Bob Dylan,
Khruangbin,
Mark Hollis,
Au Pairs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Fortunes,
Don Cherry,
Eve St. Jones,
Gabor Szabo,
Donny Hathaway,
Deadbeat,
Pussy Galore,
Magazine,
Throbbing Gristle,
David Bowie,
Wasted Youth,
Cecil Taylor,
Second Layer,
Lucky Dragons,
Black Bananas,
Silicon Teens,
The Knickerbockers,
Mission of Burma,
The Count Five,
Deepchord,
CMW,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Gladiators,
The Offenders,
Crooked Eye,
The Divine Comedy,
The Gories,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Skatalites,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Aswad,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eddi Front,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.