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 Singapore 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 Lyon and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Boredoms to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Isaac Hayes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Sly & The Family Stone,
48th St. Collective,
D'Angelo,
The Residents,
The Smoke,
Desert Stars,
Absolute Body Control,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Malaria!,
The Misunderstood,
Index,
The Happenings,
The J.B.'s,
The Fortunes,
Arthur Verocai,
Infiniti,
Intrusion,
Man Eating Sloth,
Drexciya,
Vainqueur,
Unwound,
Cecil Taylor,
Underground Resistance,
Rosa Yemen,
Sparks,
The Toasters,
Brass Construction,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eve St. Jones,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Roy Ayers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Deadbeat,
Soul II Soul,
The Fuzztones,
Lalann,
Connie Case,
The Saints,
Royal Trux,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
These Immortal Souls,
Yazoo,
Ronnie Foster,
The Dirtbombs,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bad Manners,
Sun Ra,
The Durutti Column,
Fluxion,
The Vogues,
Black Bananas,
Amazonics,
Babytalk,
the Germs,
Bush Tetras,
Lightning Bolt,
The Count Five,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.