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 South Sudan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Minny Pops to the grime 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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat 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 oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
The Offenders,
Josef K,
The Young Rascals,
Charles Mingus,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Moby Grape,
Johnny Clarke,
The Motions,
Skriet,
Radiohead,
Warsaw,
Groovy Waters,
Schoolly D,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Freddie Wadling,
Dual Sessions,
Rhythm & Sound,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Brand Nubian,
Bob Dylan,
Lungfish,
Interpol,
Minnie Riperton,
Pantaleimon,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gabor Szabo,
H. Thieme,
Jerry's Kids,
Erasure,
Marc Almond,
Royal Trux,
Henry Cow,
Ultravox,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Oblivians,
New York Dolls,
Can,
Terry Callier,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Music Machine,
Ohio Players,
Ossler,
Byron Stingily,
Panda Bear,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Moebius,
Crispian St. Peters,
MC5,
Janne Schatter,
Joensuu 1685,
Funkadelic,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Aloha Tigers,
Ludus,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Talk Talk,
Neil Young,
Simply Red,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish.
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.