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 Brunei and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tehran.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Marcia Griffiths to the punk 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Interpol,
Goldenarms,
Glenn Branca,
Simply Red,
Carl Craig,
KRS-One,
Magma,
Graham Central Station,
The Misunderstood,
Matthew Bourne,
Roger Hodgson,
The Mojo Men,
Eric Dolphy,
Bush Tetras,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Joensuu 1685,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Half Japanese,
Howard Jones,
The Fire Engines,
Massinfluence,
Judy Mowatt,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Association,
Moebius,
This Heat,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Excepter,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Moody Blues,
Public Image Ltd.,
Erasure,
Donny Hathaway,
Fat Boys,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tim Buckley,
Arcadia,
Silicon Teens,
Surgeon,
The Kinks,
Gang of Four,
Blancmange,
Whodini,
Liliput,
Organ,
Sexual Harrassment,
Outsiders,
Ken Boothe,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Q65,
MDC,
The New Christs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Girls At Our Best!,
Loose Ends,
DJ Sneak,
Lungfish,
Crispy Ambulance,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.