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 Mexico and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Tim Buckley to the rap 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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All Dual Sessions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Junior Murvin,
Angry Samoans,
Todd Terry,
Archie Shepp,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pussy Galore,
Minny Pops,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Frankie Knuckles,
Anakelly,
Terry Callier,
Amazonics,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Black Moon,
Idris Muhammad,
Half Japanese,
The Knickerbockers,
Fat Boys,
The Music Machine,
The Last Poets,
Robert Hood,
Goldenarms,
Excepter,
Malaria!,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
John Cale,
Yazoo,
DJ Style,
Suburban Knight,
Altered Images,
Scratch Acid,
The Count Five,
Severed Heads,
The Leaves,
Slave,
Amon Düül II,
Joey Negro,
L. Decosne,
Can,
Panda Bear,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Motions,
Blossom Toes,
Spandau Ballet,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ralphi Rosario,
Soul II Soul,
the Slits,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Crash Course in Science,
Joyce Sims,
U.S. Maple,
Sonic Youth,
Second Layer,
Monks,
Con Funk Shun,
Dennis Brown,
Iggy Pop,
Prince Buster,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.