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 Burkina and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Babytalk to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
David Bowie,
The Barracudas,
Chris Corsano,
Ornette Coleman,
Lalo Schifrin,
OOIOO,
Buzzcocks,
Sixth Finger,
Piero Umiliani,
T. Rex,
the Normal,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Television,
Bush Tetras,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
E-Dancer,
The Vogues,
The Saints,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bill Wells,
Interpol,
John Lydon,
Amazonics,
Blancmange,
Pagans,
Animal Collective,
Scan 7,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Radio Birdman,
Mandrill,
Byron Stingily,
Jesper Dahlback,
Eden Ahbez,
Country Teasers,
Liliput,
Erykah Badu,
Drive Like Jehu,
Oneida,
Bang On A Can,
Cymande,
Yazoo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jerry's Kids,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lindisfarne,
Sound Behaviour,
The Music Machine,
This Heat,
Hot Snakes,
Throbbing Gristle,
Cecil Taylor,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ralphi Rosario,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
U.S. Maple,
Ludus,
Adolescents,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.