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 Nicaragua and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Quantec. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Inner City,
The Leaves,
Smog,
DJ Sneak,
Mad Mike,
The Trojans,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bill Wells,
Erykah Badu,
Lungfish,
The Sound,
Visage,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sexual Harrassment,
L. Decosne,
Rhythm & Sound,
Minnie Riperton,
Black Pus,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sound Behaviour,
Alton Ellis,
Aloha Tigers,
Simply Red,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Monks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roger Hodgson,
Skaos,
Jacob Miller,
Flash Fearless,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Fuzztones,
Pulsallama,
Patti Smith,
Tomorrow,
The Moleskins,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Prince Buster,
Alphaville,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Move,
Arthur Verocai,
Gang Green,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mantronix,
Grauzone,
Roy Ayers,
Brick,
Cameo,
Shoche,
The Real Kids,
June of 44,
The Victims,
Scion,
The Mummies,
The Wake,
The Techniques,
The Fortunes,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.