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 Dominica and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ 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 Dark Day to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
Radiohead,
Jawbox,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Danielle Patucci,
D'Angelo,
Lungfish,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Goldenarms,
The Gories,
Chrome,
Fluxion,
The Walker Brothers,
Pagans,
Charles Mingus,
Half Japanese,
Isaac Hayes,
Lindisfarne,
Mission of Burma,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Reagan Youth,
Sight & Sound,
Jeff Mills,
Masters at Work,
Niagra,
Pussy Galore,
Pulsallama,
The Motions,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bush Tetras,
Judy Mowatt,
James White and The Blacks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Monochrome Set,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marine Girls,
The Offenders,
The Smiths,
Cheater Slicks,
ABBA,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Aural Exciters,
Flipper,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
John Lydon,
The Zeros,
The Cowsills,
Cal Tjader,
Panda Bear,
Joyce Sims,
Gang of Four,
Prince Buster,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rapeman,
The Moleskins,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Slave,
The Raincoats,
Arcadia,
Ornette Coleman,
Anthony Braxton,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.