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 Pakistan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba 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 This Heat to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Terry Callier,
Adolescents,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Chris Corsano,
Urselle,
The Smoke,
World's Most,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bronski Beat,
Amazonics,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Martian,
Peter and Kerry,
Clear Light,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gang Green,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Kinks,
Harmonia,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
New Age Steppers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
X-Ray Spex,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Duran Duran,
The Durutti Column,
Fort Wilson Riot,
FM Einheit,
Minny Pops,
Mo-Dettes,
Echospace,
The New Christs,
Reagan Youth,
Yusef Lateef,
Minutemen,
Deepchord,
Accadde A,
the Association,
Popol Vuh,
Bill Near,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Brand Nubian,
Bobbi Humphrey,
F. McDonald,
Bootsy Collins,
The Doobie Brothers,
Banda Bassotti,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Brothers Johnson,
KRS-One,
Radio Birdman,
a-ha,
Blossom Toes,
Camberwell Now,
Skarface,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.