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 Belize and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Grandmaster Flash to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Steve Hackett,
Soul Sonic Force,
Alice Coltrane,
Mad Mike,
MDC,
Ornette Coleman,
Henry Cow,
Sister Nancy,
Carl Craig,
Eric B and Rakim,
The United States of America,
Black Pus,
Stereo Dub,
Amon Düül II,
Hashim,
Qualms,
One Last Wish,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Seeds,
the Germs,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Velvet Underground,
Infiniti,
Sonic Youth,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Remains,
Outsiders,
The Moleskins,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Throbbing Gristle,
Terry Callier,
Au Pairs,
The Young Rascals,
H. Thieme,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Underground Resistance,
Joy Division,
Lindisfarne,
Gichy Dan,
U.S. Maple,
The Human League,
Rakim,
Tomorrow,
Parry Music,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fear,
the Soft Cell,
Ossler,
Gong,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Arab on Radar,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Slave,
The Moody Blues,
The Monks,
Don Cherry,
Groovy Waters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Derrick May,
Ultra Naté,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.