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 Cambodia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 rhodes 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 Bootsy Collins to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cal Tjader,
The Electric Prunes,
Alton Ellis,
Tropical Tobacco,
Audionom,
The Dave Clark Five,
Theoretical Girls,
Darondo,
Marmalade,
Rod Modell,
The Victims,
The Misunderstood,
U.S. Maple,
Schoolly D,
Crooked Eye,
Cheater Slicks,
Wally Richardson,
Shuggie Otis,
Pussy Galore,
Deadbeat,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eve St. Jones,
Con Funk Shun,
Tom Boy,
The Cramps,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Youth Brigade,
Grey Daturas,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bad Manners,
Curtis Mayfield,
Vladislav Delay,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Kinks,
John Lydon,
Henry Cow,
Symarip,
Jacques Brel,
Chris Corsano,
the Human League,
Donny Hathaway,
Brass Construction,
The Barracudas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Alice Coltrane,
Q65,
Isaac Hayes,
Au Pairs,
Max Romeo,
Franke,
Tomorrow,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Modern Lovers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Joe Finger,
Sun City Girls,
The Last Poets,
The Searchers,
Terry Callier,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Vogues,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.