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 San Marino and from London.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Aswad to the rap 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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lizzy Mercier Descloux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
ABC,
Amazonics,
Soulsonic Force,
The Durutti Column,
Inner City,
Aural Exciters,
Gichy Dan,
Neu!,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jawbox,
Porter Ricks,
The Evens,
Nils Olav,
Aswad,
Big Daddy Kane,
Surgeon,
Rosa Yemen,
Gang Green,
The Residents,
Mark Hollis,
Tim Buckley,
Jacob Miller,
the Soft Cell,
Robert Hood,
Urselle,
Alphaville,
Arthur Verocai,
Gregory Isaacs,
John Cale,
The Pretty Things,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Maleditus Sound,
Bob Dylan,
Black Flag,
Nik Kershaw,
Gil Scott Heron,
Joey Negro,
Gabor Szabo,
Aloha Tigers,
EPMD,
The Fuzztones,
Von Mondo,
The Happenings,
Ken Boothe,
Jimmy McGriff,
The New Christs,
La Düsseldorf,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Matthew Halsall,
Sun Ra,
Derrick May,
Pantytec,
Thompson Twins,
Minny Pops,
Boredoms,
The Fall,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lindisfarne,
Jeff Mills,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
L. Decosne,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.