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 South Africa and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the rock 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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yusef Lateef,
Delta 5,
Spandau Ballet,
Charles Mingus,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pulsallama,
Hoover,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rosa Yemen,
Sarah Menescal,
Mo-Dettes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
OOIOO,
Peter & Gordon,
Ponytail,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Skaos,
Spoonie Gee,
Kevin Saunderson,
Guru Guru,
Deakin,
A Flock of Seagulls,
CMW,
K-Klass,
Harmonia,
The Skatalites,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lucky Dragons,
Quadrant,
Nas,
Bobby Sherman,
Flamin' Groovies,
Drive Like Jehu,
Joy Division,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
JFA,
A Certain Ratio,
Angry Samoans,
Bobby Womack,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Outsiders,
Pantytec,
Fatback Band,
the Soft Cell,
Royal Trux,
Gang Green,
Amazonics,
Duran Duran,
Harry Pussy,
Mandrill,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Toasters,
Audionom,
Barry Ungar,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tears for Fears,
cv313,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.