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 Hungary and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sparks to the crunk 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alton Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
New Age Steppers,
Bobby Byrd,
Radiohead,
The Kinks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
John Coltrane,
Eve St. Jones,
Joyce Sims,
Easy Going,
Dawn Penn,
Mars,
Brick,
Duran Duran,
The Black Dice,
Yaz,
Brand Nubian,
The Dead C,
Rakim,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Marine Girls,
Mark Hollis,
Toni Rubio,
Crispy Ambulance,
Scrapy,
Nik Kershaw,
Jacob Miller,
the Fania All-Stars,
Average White Band,
the Swans,
The Blackbyrds,
Adolescents,
Fela Kuti,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bush Tetras,
Mad Mike,
Peter and Kerry,
Tom Boy,
Josef K,
Monolake,
Hardrive,
Procol Harum,
Roy Ayers,
Talk Talk,
The Associates,
Schoolly D,
Altered Images,
Panda Bear,
Stockholm Monsters,
Vladislav Delay,
Al Stewart,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Charles Mingus,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Simply Red,
The Beau Brummels,
LL Cool J,
Flash Fearless,
Eddi Front,
Wire,
Grey Daturas,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.