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 Liberia and from Mumbai.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Aural Exciters,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
H. Thieme,
Eden Ahbez,
Intrusion,
The Neon Judgement,
Skaos,
Boz Scaggs,
Pere Ubu,
Adolescents,
Lindisfarne,
Spandau Ballet,
Sight & Sound,
Gang of Four,
Liliput,
Fatback Band,
Cymande,
This Heat,
Amon Düül II,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Zeros,
Rekid,
Swans,
Simply Red,
Hoover,
the Bar-Kays,
48th St. Collective,
The Black Dice,
Barclay James Harvest,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
New Age Steppers,
Cameo,
Wings,
Derrick May,
June Days,
Unrelated Segments,
Brick,
Ponytail,
The Tremeloes,
Kurtis Blow,
Massinfluence,
Visage,
Procol Harum,
The Kinks,
Idris Muhammad,
Pole,
Roy Ayers,
The Real Kids,
Rufus Thomas,
Dual Sessions,
The Raincoats,
Nils Olav,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Blues Magoos,
Terry Callier,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.