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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 synthesizer 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 Johnny Clarke to the rap 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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
Laurel Aitken,
Sällskapet,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Knickerbockers,
MC5,
Stereo Dub,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Rufus Thomas,
Franke,
ABBA,
Idris Muhammad,
In Retrospect,
MDC,
Joensuu 1685,
Lalann,
B.T. Express,
Audionom,
the Germs,
Letta Mbulu,
The Moody Blues,
The Doors,
Deepchord,
Thompson Twins,
Funkadelic,
Mars,
Skarface,
A Flock of Seagulls,
JFA,
Ice-T,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rekid,
Silicon Teens,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Public Image Ltd.,
Delta 5,
Hashim,
DJ Style,
Bad Manners,
The Dead C,
Quadrant,
Warren Ellis,
Make Up,
Brick,
Bush Tetras,
Eurythmics,
The Standells,
Joey Negro,
David McCallum,
K-Klass,
John Lydon,
Loose Ends,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Star Department,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lou Christie,
Panda Bear,
Warsaw,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Negative Approach,
Alice Coltrane,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.