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 Malaysia and from New York.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 David Bowie to the jazz 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
The Dave Clark Five,
Magma,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
DJ Style,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kool Moe Dee,
Main Source,
Quadrant,
Mo-Dettes,
Todd Rundgren,
EPMD,
Underground Resistance,
Cheater Slicks,
Gang Green,
The Busters,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Gladiators,
Arcadia,
Sonic Youth,
Banda Bassotti,
Can,
The Standells,
The Raincoats,
The Saints,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Count Five,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Janne Schatter,
Crime,
Crispian St. Peters,
Arthur Verocai,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Sound,
Minor Threat,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Stereo Dub,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Misunderstood,
Skarface,
Lou Reed,
Erykah Badu,
Glambeats Corp.,
Slick Rick,
Carl Craig,
Con Funk Shun,
Agitation Free,
Loose Ends,
Alphaville,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Flesh Eaters,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Amazonics,
Susan Cadogan,
Donny Hathaway,
Isaac Hayes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dual Sessions,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.