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 Thailand and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 marimba 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the disco 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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers 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?
Inner City,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tommy Roe,
Piero Umiliani,
The Misunderstood,
B.T. Express,
Kevin Saunderson,
Faust,
Saccharine Trust,
Roxy Music,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Anakelly,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Doors,
Altered Images,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Connie Case,
Drive Like Jehu,
Crooked Eye,
Archie Shepp,
Deakin,
X-Ray Spex,
Make Up,
Funkadelic,
The Grass Roots,
the Swans,
Talk Talk,
Youth Brigade,
The Gun Club,
Malaria!,
Basic Channel,
Terry Callier,
PIL,
Barclay James Harvest,
This Heat,
The Angels of Light,
Ludus,
Sandy B,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ultra Naté,
Minny Pops,
Shoche,
Black Bananas,
Ultimate Spinach,
Visage,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Victims,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gang Green,
Swell Maps,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Agent Orange,
Sun Ra,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rakim,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Banda Bassotti,
Nas,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.