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 Guatemala and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Darondo to the grime 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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grey Daturas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Quantec,
Rites of Spring,
Susan Cadogan,
Cluster,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Monks,
Mission of Burma,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Angry Samoans,
Gabor Szabo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Maurizio,
Banda Bassotti,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sonny Sharrock,
Unwound,
Whodini,
The Birthday Party,
Bush Tetras,
Model 500,
Radiopuhelimet,
Max Romeo,
Gang of Four,
John Holt,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Fluxion,
ABBA,
The Seeds,
The Trojans,
Vladislav Delay,
Pet Shop Boys,
Spoonie Gee,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scion,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Camouflage,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Swans,
Archie Shepp,
The Blues Magoos,
Soul Sonic Force,
Fad Gadget,
The Leaves,
Drive Like Jehu,
Howard Jones,
Bad Manners,
Wire,
Gichy Dan,
Mandrill,
Mantronix,
Wally Richardson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Surgeon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Masters at Work,
Electric Prunes,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.