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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 rhodes 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 Crispy Ambulance to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
Anakelly,
Y Pants,
Gong,
Duran Duran,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Last Poets,
the Association,
The Gap Band,
Niagra,
Matthew Bourne,
Deadbeat,
Suburban Knight,
Das Ding,
Panda Bear,
Connie Case,
The Monks,
The Wake,
Al Stewart,
The Knickerbockers,
Bootsy Collins,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scion,
Pole,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Yazoo,
Ituana,
John Holt,
Rapeman,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Cybotron,
Lou Christie,
Jeff Mills,
Gang of Four,
Cymande,
The Blackbyrds,
Kevin Saunderson,
June of 44,
Bobby Byrd,
Arcadia,
Monolake,
Bluetip,
Alison Limerick,
Warsaw,
Grauzone,
Skriet,
The Mighty Diamonds,
X-Ray Spex,
Rekid,
Nas,
Kerrie Biddell,
Scott Walker,
Flamin' Groovies,
Alphaville,
Underground Resistance,
Max Romeo,
Mars,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Henry Cow,
Flash Fearless,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.