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 Kyrgyzstan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Television,
T.S.O.L.,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dennis Brown,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
David Bowie,
Sound Behaviour,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Fortunes,
The Blackbyrds,
the Slits,
Shuggie Otis,
Trumans Water,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Barry Ungar,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lindisfarne,
Infiniti,
Gong,
Al Stewart,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Black Sheep,
Crispian St. Peters,
Thee Headcoats,
Eric Dolphy,
Gang Starr,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Soft Cell,
Wasted Youth,
Pharoah Sanders,
Scion,
Q and Not U,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Fela Kuti,
Cymande,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Yaz,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tim Buckley,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Crash Course in Science,
Don Cherry,
Tres Demented,
Malaria!,
Half Japanese,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Sound,
Juan Atkins,
Crooked Eye,
Idris Muhammad,
The Seeds,
Fad Gadget,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Funkadelic,
Simply Red,
Mars,
Hasil Adkins,
Severed Heads,
Isaac Hayes,
David Axelrod,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.