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 Morocco and from Spokane.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 David Bowie 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 Pharoah Sanders to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
The Litter,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Gladiators,
Traffic Nightmare,
Interpol,
Masters at Work,
the Bar-Kays,
Bill Wells,
New Age Steppers,
Yusef Lateef,
The Moody Blues,
Avey Tare,
Quantec,
Animal Collective,
Lucky Dragons,
Heaven 17,
Bauhaus,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Parry Music,
Adolescents,
Sun Ra,
Juan Atkins,
Niagra,
Joy Division,
Dead Boys,
The Velvet Underground,
Bizarre Inc.,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Darondo,
Aloha Tigers,
Sarah Menescal,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Slick Rick,
Rosa Yemen,
The Leaves,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Infiniti,
D'Angelo,
Iggy Pop,
Bill Near,
Thompson Twins,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nik Kershaw,
The Fortunes,
Alice Coltrane,
Quando Quango,
Pylon,
Cymande,
Prince Buster,
Jacob Miller,
The Moleskins,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Black Flag,
The Doors,
Archie Shepp,
Outsiders,
Camouflage,
48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective.
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.