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 Romania and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 Unrelated Segments to the jazz 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall 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 harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Section 25,
Donald Byrd,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ralphi Rosario,
Blake Baxter,
Bang On A Can,
Subhumans,
Pere Ubu,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Red Krayola,
Rakim,
Ohio Players,
Mo-Dettes,
Inner City,
The Litter,
Vladislav Delay,
The American Breed,
Johnny Clarke,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Fall,
Yellowson,
Blossom Toes,
Hoover,
the Human League,
Yaz,
Harry Pussy,
Angry Samoans,
Andrew Hill,
Little Man,
Tommy Roe,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wolf Eyes,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kool Moe Dee,
Soft Cell,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Zeros,
Bush Tetras,
Throbbing Gristle,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Gladiators,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nas,
Crime,
Pylon,
A Certain Ratio,
Massinfluence,
Gil Scott Heron,
Liliput,
Jerry's Kids,
Bill Wells,
Lungfish,
Circle Jerks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Technova,
Altered Images,
Junior Murvin,
Ponytail,
Quando Quango,
kango's stein massive,
Trumans Water,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.