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 Chile and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Bobby Byrd to the grime 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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deepchord record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Yusef Lateef,
Lindisfarne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
K-Klass,
Swell Maps,
Johnny Clarke,
Television Personalities,
Tropical Tobacco,
Graham Central Station,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Cecil Taylor,
Juan Atkins,
Isaac Hayes,
Con Funk Shun,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Skarface,
Kayak,
Todd Terry,
Saccharine Trust,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fad Gadget,
Cybotron,
Supertramp,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Zero Boys,
Derrick Morgan,
Hot Snakes,
X-Ray Spex,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Motorama,
Gang Gang Dance,
Nation of Ulysses,
Guru Guru,
James White and The Blacks,
the Swans,
Joyce Sims,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Laurel Aitken,
Brass Construction,
Barbara Tucker,
Connie Case,
The Martian,
New Order,
Tom Boy,
Babytalk,
The Sound,
Buzzcocks,
Yaz,
Anthony Braxton,
Ken Boothe,
Chrome,
Michelle Simonal,
The Last Poets,
The Black Dice,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
FM Einheit,
Alice Coltrane,
The Index,
Agent Orange,
the Slits,
Lyres,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.