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 Luxembourg and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 organ 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 Barrington Levy to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Sarah Menescal,
The Fall,
Iggy Pop,
Heaven 17,
Nik Kershaw,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Leaves,
Fat Boys,
Joy Division,
Patti Smith,
Soft Cell,
The Martian,
Soul II Soul,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lucky Dragons,
EPMD,
Nico,
Black Bananas,
Soul Sonic Force,
June of 44,
John Foxx,
Anakelly,
Lungfish,
Fluxion,
Los Fastidios,
Todd Rundgren,
June Days,
Duran Duran,
Archie Shepp,
Excepter,
DJ Style,
Vladislav Delay,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
L. Decosne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
DNA,
Qualms,
Pierre Henry,
Parry Music,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Surgeon,
Mission of Burma,
Monks,
Sex Pistols,
the Slits,
The Stooges,
Mantronix,
Glenn Branca,
The Black Dice,
The Sonics,
Jeff Mills,
Gang Green,
Hardrive,
Frankie Knuckles,
Banda Bassotti,
Dave Gahan,
Symarip,
The Residents,
Scratch Acid,
The Saints,
the Association,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.