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 Suriname and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 organ 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 Thee Headcoats to the funk 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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons 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 theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
B.T. Express,
Ossler,
Duran Duran,
Organ,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Q65,
a-ha,
Jerry Gold Smith,
AZ,
Terry Callier,
Jawbox,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Dual Sessions,
Jimmy McGriff,
John Foxx,
Jeru the Damaja,
F. McDonald,
Peter and Kerry,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nas,
Camouflage,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bill Wells,
DJ Style,
Derrick May,
Ken Boothe,
Fela Kuti,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Boredoms,
Arcadia,
Gang of Four,
Tim Buckley,
Bizarre Inc.,
Brass Construction,
Wally Richardson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Tom Boy,
The Offenders,
DNA,
Robert Wyatt,
Kayak,
Black Moon,
Black Flag,
The Gories,
David Bowie,
The Litter,
The Invisible,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Roy Ayers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Stereo Dub,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Index,
Minny Pops,
Alice Coltrane,
Drexciya,
K-Klass,
Fugazi,
Spandau Ballet,
The Raincoats,
Fad Gadget,
The Fire Engines,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.