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 Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 organ 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 Ohio Players to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Echospace,
The Count Five,
Brass Construction,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lee Hazlewood,
Make Up,
Kool Moe Dee,
Alice Coltrane,
The Raincoats,
Pussy Galore,
Piero Umiliani,
The Mummies,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rites of Spring,
U.S. Maple,
Graham Central Station,
Cybotron,
Aaron Thompson,
Deepchord,
Jacques Brel,
The Kinks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Star Department,
Sister Nancy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crash Course in Science,
Gregory Isaacs,
Soft Machine,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Brand Nubian,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Trumans Water,
Bauhaus,
Lyres,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Heaven 17,
Faust,
Panda Bear,
Nas,
The Monks,
Qualms,
Mars,
Byron Stingily,
Hoover,
Nik Kershaw,
Technova,
Kayak,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Remains,
The Golliwogs,
One Last Wish,
the Normal,
Delta 5,
James White and The Blacks,
Kevin Saunderson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sight & Sound,
Procol Harum,
Chris & Cosey,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.