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 Nepal and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 mellotron 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 Sexual Harrassment 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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Lungfish,
Icehouse,
Gregory Isaacs,
Hashim,
The Knickerbockers,
Peter and Kerry,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ten City,
B.T. Express,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Bar-Kays,
Davy DMX,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Minutemen,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Howard Jones,
The Music Machine,
Man Parrish,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Outsiders,
The Litter,
Hoover,
The Leaves,
The Evens,
KRS-One,
The Cowsills,
Byron Stingily,
The Gap Band,
The Skatalites,
Reuben Wilson,
Mission of Burma,
Iggy Pop,
Barrington Levy,
Nico,
Fad Gadget,
Kaleidoscope,
FM Einheit,
Scion,
Symarip,
Visage,
The Red Krayola,
Oblivians,
Mark Hollis,
the Sonics,
Bauhaus,
Graham Central Station,
Marc Almond,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Derrick Morgan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Germs,
Magazine,
Q65,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wasted Youth,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Section 25,
The Slits,
Stereo Dub,
Glambeats Corp.,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.