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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Newcleus to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
Mad Mike,
Ronnie Foster,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Shuggie Otis,
Camouflage,
Colin Newman,
Magazine,
Ultimate Spinach,
Talk Talk,
The Fire Engines,
Oblivians,
Marcia Griffiths,
Juan Atkins,
Avey Tare,
Erasure,
KRS-One,
Country Teasers,
Terry Callier,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Khruangbin,
Rod Modell,
Can,
Alton Ellis,
Jeff Mills,
Spoonie Gee,
Masters at Work,
Infiniti,
The Grass Roots,
The Monochrome Set,
Althea and Donna,
Popol Vuh,
Ralphi Rosario,
Moby Grape,
Bill Near,
Fela Kuti,
Cybotron,
The Music Machine,
John Lydon,
The Real Kids,
Alison Limerick,
Excepter,
Tim Buckley,
Neu!,
Urselle,
Audionom,
Joensuu 1685,
Eric Dolphy,
Dennis Brown,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Brick,
Lakeside,
Warsaw,
The Motions,
Robert Görl,
Rapeman,
Susan Cadogan,
The Toasters,
Sister Nancy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Severed Heads,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.