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 Iran and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin 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 Matthew Halsall to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Raincoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delon & Dalcan,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dark Day,
DJ Sneak,
Kerri Chandler,
Fad Gadget,
the Slits,
Funkadelic,
Young Marble Giants,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ultimate Spinach,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
June Days,
Traffic Nightmare,
Donald Byrd,
Bad Manners,
John Cale,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pantytec,
The Zeros,
The Vogues,
Warsaw,
Model 500,
ABBA,
Wasted Youth,
Heaven 17,
The Walker Brothers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cal Tjader,
The Doobie Brothers,
Grauzone,
Prince Buster,
The Dirtbombs,
R.M.O.,
Faust,
Roy Ayers,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Foxx,
Negative Approach,
Surgeon,
Toni Rubio,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Donny Hathaway,
Lalann,
Lyres,
Blancmange,
Half Japanese,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gang Starr,
The Gladiators,
Sight & Sound,
Terrestrial Tones,
Chris & Cosey,
the Sonics,
Warren Ellis,
Brothers Johnson,
Erasure,
Marine Girls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Drive Like Jehu,
Slick Rick,
The Moleskins,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.