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 Swaziland and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the grime 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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alton Ellis,
New York Dolls,
Fluxion,
Little Man,
Japan,
Aswad,
Tom Boy,
Morten Harket,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
U.S. Maple,
Country Teasers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Busters,
Public Image Ltd.,
Fifty Foot Hose,
AZ,
Suburban Knight,
The Fall,
Frankie Knuckles,
Colin Newman,
Au Pairs,
Aloha Tigers,
The United States of America,
Slave,
Newcleus,
Swell Maps,
The Offenders,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kayak,
Pole,
Cluster,
Black Pus,
Scratch Acid,
The Residents,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Black Dice,
Mars,
Yellowson,
Blancmange,
Ice-T,
Charles Mingus,
Rapeman,
The Detroit Cobras,
Reuben Wilson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kerri Chandler,
KRS-One,
The Standells,
Echospace,
the Normal,
Moss Icon,
X-101,
Niagra,
Crime,
Masters at Work,
Tommy Roe,
The Walker Brothers,
Q and Not U,
The Star Department,
The Mummies,
Amon Düül,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.