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 Grenada and from Accra.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Television Personalities to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Amazonics,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Index,
Minnie Riperton,
Au Pairs,
Lalann,
Wings,
AZ,
Gong,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cymande,
The Standells,
Reuben Wilson,
Rapeman,
Max Romeo,
Carl Craig,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pantaleimon,
The Golliwogs,
Harry Pussy,
Barry Ungar,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Aswad,
Brass Construction,
Pierre Henry,
Nik Kershaw,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fugazi,
Andrew Hill,
Mad Mike,
Delon & Dalcan,
Newcleus,
The Human League,
Yazoo,
Trumans Water,
Quando Quango,
8 Eyed Spy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Moleskins,
Derrick May,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Misunderstood,
New Age Steppers,
Altered Images,
The Star Department,
Byron Stingily,
X-102,
Crooked Eye,
Soul II Soul,
Brick,
Eddi Front,
Harpers Bizarre,
Erasure,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Second Layer,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Visage,
Mo-Dettes,
MC5,
The J.B.'s,
The Velvet Underground,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.