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 Honduras and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Crispian St. Peters to the grime 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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Pantaleimon,
Animal Collective,
Icehouse,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Electric Prunes,
The Gap Band,
The Offenders,
Severed Heads,
Index,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eden Ahbez,
The Moody Blues,
X-101,
Pharoah Sanders,
Josef K,
Stockholm Monsters,
Judy Mowatt,
Depeche Mode,
Pagans,
Terrestrial Tones,
A Certain Ratio,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dark Day,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Maleditus Sound,
Pulsallama,
Darondo,
Johnny Clarke,
Scott Walker,
Man Parrish,
Carl Craig,
Gichy Dan,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rapeman,
Lindisfarne,
The Grass Roots,
The Fuzztones,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Tres Demented,
Ponytail,
Cal Tjader,
The Cramps,
Oblivians,
Mr. Review,
The Pretty Things,
Eurythmics,
Man Eating Sloth,
Connie Case,
Derrick Morgan,
Byron Stingily,
Barrington Levy,
Wally Richardson,
Girls At Our Best!,
Wasted Youth,
Unrelated Segments,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity.
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.