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 Cambodia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Ken Boothe to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Popol Vuh,
The Moleskins,
Q and Not U,
Skriet,
Funky Four + One,
Terrestrial Tones,
Crispian St. Peters,
Reuben Wilson,
The Sonics,
The Velvet Underground,
Lower 48,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Brand Nubian,
Jacques Brel,
Reagan Youth,
Jerry's Kids,
Danielle Patucci,
Ken Boothe,
Kenny Larkin,
The Motions,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bobby Byrd,
Sun Ra,
Colin Newman,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ituana,
The Dead C,
Eric B and Rakim,
Marvin Gaye,
Swell Maps,
Big Daddy Kane,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
a-ha,
Essential Logic,
Aural Exciters,
Index,
Amon Düül,
Kerri Chandler,
Robert Hood,
Goldenarms,
Neil Young,
Ronan,
Animal Collective,
Cal Tjader,
Sällskapet,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Liliput,
Oblivians,
T. Rex,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Scott Walker,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Remains,
Nils Olav,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
James White and The Blacks,
Agitation Free,
Pylon,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.