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 Zambia 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 B.T. Express to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Anthony Braxton,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
X-102,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sex Pistols,
Suicide,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mo-Dettes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rapeman,
Grey Daturas,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Amon Düül,
Second Layer,
Gang Starr,
Masters at Work,
Matthew Bourne,
Kool Moe Dee,
John Cale,
The Beau Brummels,
Mantronix,
John Holt,
The Angels of Light,
Laurel Aitken,
Bang On A Can,
Crooked Eye,
Warren Ellis,
Alphaville,
the Slits,
The Electric Prunes,
The Stooges,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Danielle Patucci,
The Seeds,
Desert Stars,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Eric Copeland,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
D'Angelo,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Royal Trux,
Roger Hodgson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Byron Stingily,
Fugazi,
Schoolly D,
Erykah Badu,
Guru Guru,
The Fugs,
Moby Grape,
Reagan Youth,
DJ Sneak,
Theoretical Girls,
The Toasters,
Janne Schatter,
Electric Prunes,
Althea and Donna,
L. Decosne,
Idris Muhammad,
Cameo,
Sam Rivers,
AZ,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.