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 Japan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
Moebius,
Judy Mowatt,
Harry Pussy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
X-Ray Spex,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Boz Scaggs,
The Techniques,
Pantaleimon,
Crooked Eye,
Henry Cow,
Iggy Pop,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dennis Brown,
Wolf Eyes,
Lower 48,
Tomorrow,
New Age Steppers,
Sound Behaviour,
The Misunderstood,
The Tremeloes,
T. Rex,
Sparks,
Kas Product,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Skarface,
Los Fastidios,
8 Eyed Spy,
Barry Ungar,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gregory Isaacs,
Buzzcocks,
Piero Umiliani,
Faust,
The Golliwogs,
Roy Ayers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Grandmaster Flash,
Silicon Teens,
Stockholm Monsters,
KRS-One,
The Blackbyrds,
Camouflage,
June Days,
Jacob Miller,
Glenn Branca,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Grauzone,
Pantytec,
Sixth Finger,
the Bar-Kays,
Peter and Kerry,
James White and The Blacks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jimmy McGriff,
Zapp,
La Düsseldorf,
Robert Wyatt,
Terry Callier,
Suburban Knight,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.