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 Burundi and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Todd Terry to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Hoover,
Ohio Players,
June Days,
Sonny Sharrock,
Black Flag,
Jawbox,
Gang Gang Dance,
Matthew Bourne,
Ultra Naté,
Oblivians,
Barrington Levy,
Man Parrish,
The Moody Blues,
Buzzcocks,
Sight & Sound,
Los Fastidios,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cameo,
the Sonics,
Gong,
New York Dolls,
Organ,
Kerri Chandler,
Soul II Soul,
The Buckinghams,
Basic Channel,
Lalann,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mandrill,
Junior Murvin,
Joensuu 1685,
Lightning Bolt,
Mantronix,
The Residents,
Jimmy McGriff,
Neil Young,
Little Man,
Bootsy Collins,
Robert Görl,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ituana,
Sister Nancy,
Siglo XX,
Bauhaus,
Q and Not U,
Tubeway Army,
Young Marble Giants,
The Detroit Cobras,
Main Source,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Slick Rick,
The Happenings,
Suicide,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Motions,
Reuben Wilson,
The American Breed,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dennis Brown,
John Cale,
U.S. Maple,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.