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 Italy and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba 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 the Association 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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Matthew Bourne,
New Age Steppers,
Procol Harum,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Iggy Pop,
Boredoms,
Clear Light,
Jerry's Kids,
Reagan Youth,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Red Krayola,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sexual Harrassment,
R.M.O.,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Aural Exciters,
Urselle,
Neil Young,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Whodini,
Nik Kershaw,
Cluster,
The Real Kids,
Maurizio,
Angry Samoans,
Reuben Wilson,
Public Enemy,
Qualms,
Ronan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
a-ha,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Hoover,
The Offenders,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Martian,
Davy DMX,
Cecil Taylor,
Althea and Donna,
Gang Gang Dance,
In Retrospect,
Letta Mbulu,
The Monks,
Outsiders,
Ossler,
Kaleidoscope,
Anakelly,
Faraquet,
Fad Gadget,
Camouflage,
Excepter,
Bobby Byrd,
Steve Hackett,
Joey Negro,
Glambeats Corp.,
Shuggie Otis,
Ash Ra Tempel,
World's Most,
Sex Pistols,
David Axelrod,
Bill Near,
The Selecter,
Hot Snakes,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.