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 Nigeria and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Sonny Sharrock to the punk 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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Harry Pussy,
Ronnie Foster,
ABC,
Babytalk,
Michelle Simonal,
Stockholm Monsters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Davy DMX,
Rosa Yemen,
Jerry's Kids,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Ice-T,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Wake,
Bobby Womack,
Bob Dylan,
Delta 5,
Subhumans,
The Cowsills,
Eric Dolphy,
Nirvana,
Carl Craig,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The J.B.'s,
Con Funk Shun,
The Tremeloes,
Parry Music,
Judy Mowatt,
Joensuu 1685,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Animal Collective,
The Move,
Jesper Dahlback,
Barbara Tucker,
Maurizio,
Symarip,
The Durutti Column,
Joe Finger,
Mars,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Television,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Byron Stingily,
Darondo,
Barclay James Harvest,
Scrapy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Fuzztones,
Mark Hollis,
Los Fastidios,
PIL,
The Victims,
Goldenarms,
Scan 7,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Dorothy Ashby,
Siglo XX,
Lakeside,
Mantronix,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.