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 Bangladesh and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Paris.
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 mellotron 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 Blake Baxter to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Spandau Ballet,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gong,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Move,
Connie Case,
Colin Newman,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Barclay James Harvest,
Spoonie Gee,
Joensuu 1685,
ABC,
Lindisfarne,
Bob Dylan,
Chrome,
Heaven 17,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Young Marble Giants,
OOIOO,
Absolute Body Control,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Raincoats,
Steve Hackett,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Bar-Kays,
Grey Daturas,
Isaac Hayes,
Ossler,
K-Klass,
Ten City,
Scrapy,
The Count Five,
Aural Exciters,
Half Japanese,
Lebanon Hanover,
Black Flag,
Gang Green,
Kaleidoscope,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Trumans Water,
Siglo XX,
Smog,
Flipper,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Blake Baxter,
The Associates,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Walker Brothers,
Fatback Band,
The Tremeloes,
Dennis Brown,
The Victims,
Todd Rundgren,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pantytec,
The Cowsills,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.