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 Ivory Coast and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 synthesizer 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 Roxette to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
Susan Cadogan,
Marine Girls,
Pulsallama,
Camberwell Now,
Darondo,
This Heat,
Can,
Delon & Dalcan,
Roy Ayers,
The Litter,
Throbbing Gristle,
Barbara Tucker,
Rufus Thomas,
Grey Daturas,
Deakin,
The Busters,
The Dead C,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
D'Angelo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Quando Quango,
The Barracudas,
Ten City,
Smog,
Pylon,
Country Teasers,
Donny Hathaway,
Bill Wells,
Alice Coltrane,
Easy Going,
the Normal,
Tres Demented,
Hot Snakes,
Erasure,
Minutemen,
Visage,
Scan 7,
The Stooges,
Spandau Ballet,
LL Cool J,
The Music Machine,
Jeff Mills,
Index,
Cheater Slicks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Soulsonic Force,
Lyres,
Fad Gadget,
Bill Near,
Bang On A Can,
Aloha Tigers,
The Selecter,
Michelle Simonal,
Pet Shop Boys,
New York Dolls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Deepchord,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.