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 Netherlands and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 synthesizer 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro 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 clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
The Mojo Men,
Main Source,
Scott Walker,
Outsiders,
Arthur Verocai,
the Normal,
Unrelated Segments,
Ohio Players,
The Angels of Light,
Electric Prunes,
Gang Gang Dance,
L. Decosne,
Tom Boy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wire,
Donald Byrd,
Jawbox,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Con Funk Shun,
DJ Sneak,
The Smoke,
John Cale,
Zero Boys,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Franke,
Radio Birdman,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Barclay James Harvest,
Erykah Badu,
Tubeway Army,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Star Department,
The Cure,
Rotary Connection,
Infiniti,
Godley & Creme,
Kerrie Biddell,
Traffic Nightmare,
Public Enemy,
Robert Görl,
Can,
Cheater Slicks,
Davy DMX,
Blancmange,
Sun City Girls,
Amon Düül II,
Barrington Levy,
The Fire Engines,
The Monochrome Set,
Schoolly D,
Patti Smith,
Graham Central Station,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Matthew Bourne,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Inner City,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.