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 Colombia and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mumbai.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Althea and Donna to the jazz 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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Nas,
Sixth Finger,
Godley & Creme,
June Days,
Throbbing Gristle,
Aloha Tigers,
Angry Samoans,
Brothers Johnson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Soft Cell,
Joey Negro,
Scott Walker,
Delta 5,
Jeru the Damaja,
Funky Four + One,
The Durutti Column,
These Immortal Souls,
ABC,
Aaron Thompson,
Eve St. Jones,
Peter & Gordon,
Kerrie Biddell,
Soft Machine,
Inner City,
The Beau Brummels,
Joensuu 1685,
Crooked Eye,
Bootsy Collins,
Juan Atkins,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Model 500,
Sexual Harrassment,
Swans,
The Martian,
Sarah Menescal,
Roy Ayers,
The Count Five,
AZ,
Country Teasers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pulsallama,
The Birthday Party,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bauhaus,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tom Boy,
The Electric Prunes,
Mad Mike,
The Cowsills,
New Age Steppers,
K-Klass,
June of 44,
Trumans Water,
Simply Red,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Outsiders,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.