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 Kuwait and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb 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 The Searchers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
kango's stein massive,
Qualms,
Rotary Connection,
Aloha Tigers,
Andrew Hill,
Joey Negro,
Trumans Water,
The Barracudas,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sound Behaviour,
Don Cherry,
Spandau Ballet,
Zero Boys,
the Germs,
The Electric Prunes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bob Dylan,
The Sound,
Yaz,
Magazine,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
ABBA,
Donald Byrd,
The Gladiators,
The Real Kids,
Sight & Sound,
Pharoah Sanders,
Intrusion,
Gong,
DJ Sneak,
the Association,
Gang Starr,
Pagans,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
48th St. Collective,
David Axelrod,
Los Fastidios,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Zapp,
The Durutti Column,
Funky Four + One,
Ice-T,
Nirvana,
Johnny Clarke,
Babytalk,
Wasted Youth,
Charles Mingus,
Anakelly,
Stockholm Monsters,
New Order,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Joyce Sims,
Urselle,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Godley & Creme,
Kaleidoscope,
The Cramps,
ABC,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.