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 Uzbekistan and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
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 Main Source to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Steve Hackett,
Porter Ricks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rakim,
Boogie Down Productions,
Monolake,
Procol Harum,
Marcia Griffiths,
Harry Pussy,
Smog,
The Fall,
Scion,
The J.B.'s,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Frankie Knuckles,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Mojo Men,
Nick Fraelich,
Sällskapet,
Joyce Sims,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Fad Gadget,
Hoover,
Brick,
Flipper,
Zero Boys,
Sam Rivers,
Ronan,
This Heat,
The Grass Roots,
Boz Scaggs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Masters at Work,
Eden Ahbez,
Second Layer,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nils Olav,
Terrestrial Tones,
Can,
Hot Snakes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Organ,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Happenings,
Eric Dolphy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Don Cherry,
The Monochrome Set,
Albert Ayler,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Moebius,
Fatback Band,
Outsiders,
The Doors,
Sight & Sound,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Das Ding,
PIL,
EPMD,
The Busters,
Erasure,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.