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 Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare 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 Marshall Jefferson to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Monochrome Set. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
The Names,
Sällskapet,
Sixth Finger,
Sandy B,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fela Kuti,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Panda Bear,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
DJ Sneak,
The Martian,
Anthony Braxton,
Jeru the Damaja,
Main Source,
David McCallum,
The Vogues,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Das Ding,
The Velvet Underground,
Theoretical Girls,
Crooked Eye,
Marmalade,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Janne Schatter,
Essential Logic,
Marvin Gaye,
John Coltrane,
Television,
ABBA,
Anakelly,
Country Teasers,
Skarface,
The Last Poets,
Urselle,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Bar-Kays,
Fatback Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Wings,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lou Reed,
Soft Machine,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Simply Red,
Maurizio,
Fear,
Sister Nancy,
Jerry's Kids,
Girls At Our Best!,
Terrestrial Tones,
Wolf Eyes,
Camberwell Now,
Fugazi,
Cymande,
The Associates,
Deakin,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Magma,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.