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 Senegal and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 Johannesburg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 Angels of Light to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
EPMD,
Wings,
The Busters,
The Last Poets,
Audionom,
Negative Approach,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Freddie Wadling,
Andrew Hill,
Zapp,
Television Personalities,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lucky Dragons,
Throbbing Gristle,
Saccharine Trust,
Ohio Players,
Minnie Riperton,
Scientists,
R.M.O.,
Crooked Eye,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Skriet,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Cowsills,
Ice-T,
JFA,
Ken Boothe,
Todd Rundgren,
a-ha,
Crispian St. Peters,
Vainqueur,
CMW,
The Fugs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dark Day,
Bronski Beat,
The Golliwogs,
Mo-Dettes,
Soul Sonic Force,
X-Ray Spex,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Nico,
The Sonics,
Yazoo,
Howard Jones,
Supertramp,
Inner City,
Wolf Eyes,
New Order,
Groovy Waters,
Amon Düül,
Fat Boys,
The Associates,
Au Pairs,
David Axelrod,
Aswad,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.