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 United States and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 808 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 Jeru the Damaja to the grunge 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sunsets and Hearts record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Sex Pistols,
Mandrill,
Tres Demented,
Minor Threat,
Yellowson,
The Standells,
Procol Harum,
The Count Five,
Zapp,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jacques Brel,
EPMD,
Terry Callier,
Deadbeat,
the Human League,
Alton Ellis,
Gong,
The Monks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pere Ubu,
Mad Mike,
The Doors,
ABC,
the Slits,
E-Dancer,
the Bar-Kays,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bluetip,
Trumans Water,
Scratch Acid,
48th St. Collective,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Offenders,
Bad Manners,
Nico,
Slave,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Porter Ricks,
The Index,
Junior Murvin,
Delon & Dalcan,
Oneida,
Scientists,
Howard Jones,
Rhythm & Sound,
Saccharine Trust,
Kerrie Biddell,
Minutemen,
The Knickerbockers,
KRS-One,
Theoretical Girls,
New York Dolls,
Dennis Brown,
Con Funk Shun,
Marine Girls,
Cecil Taylor,
Man Eating Sloth,
Oblivians,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.