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 Fiji and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Michael McDonald 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 Monks to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
Sugar Minott,
Gang Starr,
Nik Kershaw,
The Invisible,
Sound Behaviour,
Cymande,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lungfish,
Bang On A Can,
Duran Duran,
Kurtis Blow,
Toni Rubio,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
48th St. Collective,
Trumans Water,
Half Japanese,
Whodini,
Al Stewart,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Toasters,
Rufus Thomas,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Holt,
Underground Resistance,
Ludus,
Dennis Brown,
Pere Ubu,
The Knickerbockers,
The Searchers,
The Standells,
Second Layer,
Wally Richardson,
Curtis Mayfield,
ABC,
Severed Heads,
KRS-One,
Moebius,
Juan Atkins,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Tremeloes,
Lindisfarne,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gichy Dan,
Black Pus,
Mad Mike,
New Order,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Y Pants,
Supertramp,
Quando Quango,
Can,
Saccharine Trust,
Average White Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Techniques,
The Leaves,
The Slackers,
Kas Product,
Stereo Dub,
Donny Hathaway,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.