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 Turkmenistan and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Trumans Water to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aural Exciters 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Matthew Bourne,
Sonny Sharrock,
Derrick May,
Y Pants,
Main Source,
Magazine,
Subhumans,
Robert Hood,
The Angels of Light,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Index,
Lebanon Hanover,
Procol Harum,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
T. Rex,
Black Bananas,
Ossler,
Aswad,
Bluetip,
Model 500,
The Flesh Eaters,
Barclay James Harvest,
Easy Going,
Yusef Lateef,
Mission of Burma,
Juan Atkins,
Magma,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Residents,
The United States of America,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Toasters,
Con Funk Shun,
Negative Approach,
a-ha,
Intrusion,
Oblivians,
Joy Division,
Lou Reed,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Bar-Kays,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Angry Samoans,
John Cale,
Nico,
James White and The Blacks,
The Young Rascals,
Electric Prunes,
Warren Ellis,
Public Enemy,
Section 25,
DNA,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Dirtbombs,
Livin' Joy,
Young Marble Giants,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.