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 Cape Verde and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Houston.
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 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 8 Eyed Spy to the rap 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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Das Ding,
Sexual Harrassment,
Outsiders,
Crooked Eye,
The Selecter,
Gabor Szabo,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Judy Mowatt,
The Dead C,
Absolute Body Control,
Harry Pussy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Maleditus Sound,
Al Stewart,
KRS-One,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Connie Case,
John Cale,
Delon & Dalcan,
Todd Rundgren,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rod Modell,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Shadows of Knight,
Severed Heads,
Infiniti,
The Neon Judgement,
Man Eating Sloth,
Alison Limerick,
Japan,
The Evens,
Banda Bassotti,
Magma,
Grey Daturas,
New Age Steppers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Andrew Hill,
Section 25,
Slave,
Barrington Levy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Yazoo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Black Pus,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Thompson Twins,
Max Romeo,
The Modern Lovers,
Depeche Mode,
LL Cool J,
Hot Snakes,
Radio Birdman,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Litter,
Lyres,
Newcleus,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
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.