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 the UAE and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Barrington Levy to the disco 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pierre Henry,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Simply Red,
Bob Dylan,
Moby Grape,
Roy Ayers,
The Residents,
Avey Tare,
Swell Maps,
Stiv Bators,
Flipper,
Essential Logic,
Dorothy Ashby,
10cc,
Sonny Sharrock,
Saccharine Trust,
Jacob Miller,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
Arthur Verocai,
Sunsets and Hearts,
New Age Steppers,
Mandrill,
Pagans,
The Doobie Brothers,
Y Pants,
Patti Smith,
The Monochrome Set,
Camouflage,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nico,
Funky Four + One,
Blossom Toes,
Boz Scaggs,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Warsaw,
John Holt,
the Swans,
Pantaleimon,
The Gun Club,
The Martian,
Procol Harum,
The United States of America,
Hashim,
Siglo XX,
X-101,
June of 44,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Amazonics,
Malaria!,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Outsiders,
the Sonics,
Hardrive,
Junior Murvin,
Connie Case,
FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit.
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.