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 Cameroon and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
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 Drexciya to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Letta Mbulu,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Minny Pops,
Wire,
Livin' Joy,
The Selecter,
Cluster,
The Grass Roots,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Delta 5,
Ten City,
Sun Ra,
Main Source,
Make Up,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sight & Sound,
Country Teasers,
Jacob Miller,
Kurtis Blow,
KRS-One,
Lungfish,
The Flesh Eaters,
Matthew Halsall,
Sound Behaviour,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Amon Düül,
Derrick May,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ponytail,
Siglo XX,
Black Pus,
Mission of Burma,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tom Boy,
Goldenarms,
Don Cherry,
The Fire Engines,
The Slackers,
Ronan,
The Barracudas,
The Invisible,
Glambeats Corp.,
Metal Thangz,
Judy Mowatt,
Gichy Dan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Aaron Thompson,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sexual Harrassment,
Maurizio,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Thompson Twins,
Charles Mingus,
Altered Images,
F. McDonald,
Whodini,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Blackbyrds,
Funky Four + One,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.