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 Honduras and from Columbus.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Martian to the disco 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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Knickerbockers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Henry Cow,
The Red Krayola,
Dual Sessions,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Buckinghams,
Black Bananas,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Wolf Eyes,
Pantytec,
Aural Exciters,
Bauhaus,
Qualms,
Spoonie Gee,
Shuggie Otis,
Gong,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sparks,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Saints,
Nico,
The Electric Prunes,
Rod Modell,
Warsaw,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ten City,
Quantec,
Ken Boothe,
The Gap Band,
Average White Band,
Agitation Free,
Roxy Music,
Bill Wells,
Guru Guru,
Sugar Minott,
The Associates,
48th St. Collective,
The Walker Brothers,
Black Flag,
These Immortal Souls,
Parry Music,
The Evens,
Morten Harket,
Eurythmics,
The Wake,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mad Mike,
the Human League,
The Tremeloes,
David Axelrod,
Connie Case,
Kaleidoscope,
New York Dolls,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Barracudas,
Hashim,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Soft Machine,
Scott Walker,
The Selecter,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.