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 Azerbaijan 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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Masters at Work to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
H. Thieme,
Nirvana,
The Mummies,
Index,
Pulsallama,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eurythmics,
Zapp,
Joe Smooth,
Talk Talk,
Terrestrial Tones,
Das Ding,
Suburban Knight,
Livin' Joy,
the Bar-Kays,
Shoche,
The Techniques,
ABC,
The Slits,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kaleidoscope,
Josef K,
Davy DMX,
Eddi Front,
Parry Music,
Deakin,
Drexciya,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Steve Hackett,
Jandek,
Hoover,
CMW,
Piero Umiliani,
Reuben Wilson,
Mr. Review,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Electric Prunes,
DNA,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tomorrow,
Mo-Dettes,
Hot Snakes,
Jawbox,
Schoolly D,
Accadde A,
Metal Thangz,
Nas,
Clear Light,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Cure,
Hardrive,
T.S.O.L.,
Man Parrish,
Model 500,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tommy Roe,
Sonic Youth,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.