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 Taiwan and from Winnipeg.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Stockholm.
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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Icehouse,
The Detroit Cobras,
Q65,
Don Cherry,
Aural Exciters,
The Names,
Rites of Spring,
Kurtis Blow,
Eden Ahbez,
Nick Fraelich,
Robert Hood,
Marmalade,
Kayak,
Rosa Yemen,
Arthur Verocai,
Delon & Dalcan,
Graham Central Station,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Skaos,
Camouflage,
Josef K,
James White and The Blacks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wings,
Magazine,
Carl Craig,
Delta 5,
The Smoke,
Lalann,
Subhumans,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Angry Samoans,
UT,
The Tremeloes,
Qualms,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Cramps,
Cameo,
ABBA,
Surgeon,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Selecter,
The Knickerbockers,
The Wake,
The Happenings,
New Order,
Crash Course in Science,
The Seeds,
Parry Music,
The Electric Prunes,
Spoonie Gee,
the Normal,
Black Pus,
Audionom,
Dorothy Ashby,
Alton Ellis,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Erasure,
The Dead C,
Slick Rick,
Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire.
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.