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 Kiribati and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 snare 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 Malaria! to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Scion,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Thompson Twins,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Offenders,
JFA,
The Red Krayola,
The Real Kids,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Minor Threat,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Q and Not U,
Rod Modell,
Ten City,
Flash Fearless,
Barbara Tucker,
Niagra,
Eve St. Jones,
Terrestrial Tones,
T.S.O.L.,
Gastr Del Sol,
Minnie Riperton,
Ituana,
Von Mondo,
Severed Heads,
Soul Sonic Force,
Nas,
The Knickerbockers,
Sandy B,
Groovy Waters,
Robert Hood,
June of 44,
Joe Smooth,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Trojans,
The Cowsills,
Livin' Joy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tom Boy,
John Holt,
the Soft Cell,
Connie Case,
Joe Finger,
Bill Near,
Oblivians,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Leaves,
Frankie Knuckles,
Essential Logic,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
AZ,
David McCallum,
8 Eyed Spy,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Five Americans,
Jeff Lynne,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.