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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Spokane.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Skriet to the rock 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Saints,
Nils Olav,
Sarah Menescal,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Main Source,
Ituana,
Charles Mingus,
The Buckinghams,
Joey Negro,
Porter Ricks,
Soulsonic Force,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lungfish,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Music Machine,
Subhumans,
Alice Coltrane,
Saccharine Trust,
The Cure,
Henry Cow,
Toni Rubio,
Godley & Creme,
Roxette,
Joyce Sims,
Skarface,
Brothers Johnson,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Stooges,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
June Days,
Harry Pussy,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rhythm & Sound,
New Age Steppers,
Todd Terry,
Electric Prunes,
Colin Newman,
Alison Limerick,
Heaven 17,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Motions,
Bauhaus,
Kaleidoscope,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bluetip,
Fatback Band,
Blossom Toes,
Zapp,
Parry Music,
Slave,
Judy Mowatt,
Television Personalities,
Maleditus Sound,
Alton Ellis,
Pussy Galore,
Crime,
Piero Umiliani,
Al Stewart,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.