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 Costa Rica and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Beijing.
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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Gastr Del Sol to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Pantytec,
Monks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Tomorrow,
One Last Wish,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Fania All-Stars,
Camberwell Now,
Livin' Joy,
Hot Snakes,
The Seeds,
Malaria!,
Barbara Tucker,
Liliput,
EPMD,
ABC,
Idris Muhammad,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Raincoats,
Yellowson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The J.B.'s,
Lindisfarne,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Maurizio,
Bang On A Can,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gil Scott Heron,
Suicide,
The Names,
The Slits,
The Residents,
Television,
Essential Logic,
Hardrive,
Ossler,
Sun Ra,
Piero Umiliani,
Blossom Toes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Dawn Penn,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lou Reed,
Ralphi Rosario,
Black Bananas,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Monks,
Sex Pistols,
Big Daddy Kane,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Joy Division,
Ronan,
The Gories,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jesper Dahlback,
Wings,
Anthony Braxton,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.