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 Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Andrew Hill to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Wasted Youth,
Eurythmics,
Fluxion,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Average White Band,
June of 44,
Deadbeat,
The Cure,
Jeru the Damaja,
Danielle Patucci,
Scan 7,
kango's stein massive,
Soul II Soul,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fad Gadget,
Judy Mowatt,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Von Mondo,
Visage,
Slave,
Al Stewart,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Slits,
Gang Starr,
World's Most,
Steve Hackett,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Scott Walker,
Boz Scaggs,
cv313,
Mad Mike,
Marcia Griffiths,
Erasure,
Blake Baxter,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Star Department,
T. Rex,
The Fugs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Index,
Excepter,
The Beau Brummels,
Brothers Johnson,
The Leaves,
Bill Near,
Zapp,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Juan Atkins,
New Order,
The Litter,
Kaleidoscope,
Bobby Byrd,
Todd Terry,
Stereo Dub,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Angels of Light,
KRS-One,
Trumans Water,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.