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 Angola 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mumbai.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Terrestrial Tones to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bronski Beat,
Ossler,
Hardrive,
Lindisfarne,
Gang Green,
Q and Not U,
Dark Day,
Susan Cadogan,
Intrusion,
Josef K,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
48th St. Collective,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Simply Red,
FM Einheit,
Parry Music,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
JFA,
Eddi Front,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Wings,
Wasted Youth,
Kayak,
F. McDonald,
Faust,
Johnny Clarke,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Organ,
Bobby Byrd,
The Walker Brothers,
New York Dolls,
Monks,
Eric Copeland,
Kool Moe Dee,
Flash Fearless,
The Velvet Underground,
the Sonics,
Radiohead,
Pere Ubu,
Tommy Roe,
John Holt,
David Axelrod,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Talk Talk,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Reuben Wilson,
Ronnie Foster,
Colin Newman,
The Selecter,
Piero Umiliani,
Mission of Burma,
Yusef Lateef,
One Last Wish,
Sound Behaviour,
Barrington Levy,
Rakim,
Oblivians,
Pierre Henry,
The Kinks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.