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 Belize and from Milan.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the 808 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 Eric B and Rakim 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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill 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 techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Marmalade,
Masters at Work,
The Evens,
Sonny Sharrock,
DNA,
Chris Corsano,
Carl Craig,
Kenny Larkin,
The Walker Brothers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ultra Naté,
Deadbeat,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eurythmics,
Boz Scaggs,
Magma,
Roger Hodgson,
Amon Düül,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Main Source,
Nick Fraelich,
Sun Ra,
Brothers Johnson,
The Velvet Underground,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pussy Galore,
Sexual Harrassment,
Moss Icon,
Johnny Clarke,
The Red Krayola,
The Count Five,
The Kinks,
The Saints,
The Real Kids,
Alice Coltrane,
Josef K,
Lou Christie,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rotary Connection,
the Association,
Boogie Down Productions,
Visage,
Crispian St. Peters,
Easy Going,
Iggy Pop,
Swans,
Funkadelic,
Connie Case,
Rosa Yemen,
Banda Bassotti,
Funky Four + One,
Rites of Spring,
Prince Buster,
The Skatalites,
Duran Duran,
Kas Product,
Loose Ends,
Laurel Aitken,
Eve St. Jones,
The Alarm Clocks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.