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 Gambia and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe 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 Matthew Bourne to the rap 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 Kinks. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Misunderstood,
Jacob Miller,
Slave,
Franke,
Vladislav Delay,
Robert Wyatt,
the Normal,
Tim Buckley,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Stetsasonic,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Wings,
Archie Shepp,
Fluxion,
Fear,
The Angels of Light,
The United States of America,
Black Pus,
H. Thieme,
Nils Olav,
Gang Green,
Warsaw,
Tomorrow,
Carl Craig,
Prince Buster,
Isaac Hayes,
Average White Band,
Ludus,
Hasil Adkins,
Boz Scaggs,
Bill Wells,
The Smoke,
DJ Style,
Cal Tjader,
Sugar Minott,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Susan Cadogan,
Desert Stars,
Nas,
Metal Thangz,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bobby Womack,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ohio Players,
the Slits,
Black Flag,
The Gap Band,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Neon Judgement,
The Offenders,
48th St. Collective,
Judy Mowatt,
Blossom Toes,
Sound Behaviour,
Anakelly,
Skriet,
Pharoah Sanders,
Siglo XX,
Laurel Aitken,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.