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 Solomon Islands and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 sitar 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 Porter Ricks to the jazz 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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
The Fall,
Section 25,
Mr. Review,
Mantronix,
Qualms,
Unrelated Segments,
Hot Snakes,
Kerri Chandler,
Angry Samoans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Knickerbockers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Echospace,
Aloha Tigers,
Gang Starr,
Parry Music,
Black Pus,
Neil Young,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Red Krayola,
Bang On A Can,
Oneida,
Japan,
Eurythmics,
The Gladiators,
Black Flag,
The Tremeloes,
Byron Stingily,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Erasure,
Fad Gadget,
Derrick Morgan,
Ossler,
Terry Callier,
Clear Light,
Infiniti,
Cluster,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Derrick May,
Television Personalities,
Roxy Music,
Public Enemy,
Jacques Brel,
K-Klass,
Soft Cell,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Joyce Sims,
Connie Case,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ten City,
Joey Negro,
The Misunderstood,
The Kinks,
Goldenarms,
Cybotron,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Peter and Kerry,
Marvin Gaye,
Carl Craig,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.