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 Moldova and from London.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Michael McDonald 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 Knickerbockers to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Cymande. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ludus,
ABC,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
the Fania All-Stars,
Blake Baxter,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Golliwogs,
Basic Channel,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Toni Rubio,
A Certain Ratio,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Index,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Flamin' Groovies,
Prince Buster,
Jeff Lynne,
The Invisible,
Mo-Dettes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Underground Resistance,
Livin' Joy,
Arcadia,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Interpol,
Schoolly D,
Warsaw,
The Raincoats,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cecil Taylor,
Gil Scott Heron,
Quantec,
MDC,
Tears for Fears,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sound Behaviour,
Judy Mowatt,
The Gap Band,
Lalann,
Section 25,
DNA,
Vainqueur,
Robert Görl,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rotary Connection,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Los Fastidios,
Desert Stars,
Patti Smith,
Blancmange,
Tropical Tobacco,
Chrome,
Charles Mingus,
The American Breed,
Jimmy McGriff,
New Age Steppers,
Gastr Del Sol,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.