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 Sri Lanka and from Milan.
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 Salvador and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Monochrome Set to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Moon,
The Monks,
The Tremeloes,
Ken Boothe,
The Moody Blues,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dual Sessions,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Fortunes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Second Layer,
The Cowsills,
Alison Limerick,
Banda Bassotti,
Alice Coltrane,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pet Shop Boys,
Prince Buster,
Crash Course in Science,
Junior Murvin,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fall,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Shuggie Otis,
Pole,
The American Breed,
The Selecter,
Wolf Eyes,
Cluster,
Rites of Spring,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lee Hazlewood,
OOIOO,
Minor Threat,
T. Rex,
Warsaw,
Mantronix,
Bill Near,
The Last Poets,
Marmalade,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Beau Brummels,
The Searchers,
The Monochrome Set,
Cecil Taylor,
Stockholm Monsters,
Easy Going,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
MDC,
Joe Finger,
Johnny Clarke,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Delta 5,
Blake Baxter,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Neon Judgement,
the Soft Cell,
AZ,
The Misunderstood,
cv313,
Jacob Miller,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.