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 India 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Yusef Lateef to the jazz 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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pussy Galore,
Reuben Wilson,
the Swans,
Sam Rivers,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Angels of Light,
Erasure,
Roxy Music,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Chris & Cosey,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Saints,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pantytec,
Drive Like Jehu,
Swans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bluetip,
R.M.O.,
Royal Trux,
Todd Terry,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marshall Jefferson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Tommy Roe,
Marmalade,
Gabor Szabo,
The Wake,
The Red Krayola,
Peter & Gordon,
Black Sheep,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rapeman,
Cybotron,
B.T. Express,
Cluster,
Audionom,
Tubeway Army,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Neon Judgement,
The Seeds,
Soft Machine,
Lungfish,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gang Starr,
Slick Rick,
Sight & Sound,
Flipper,
Ornette Coleman,
Wally Richardson,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The New Christs,
Con Funk Shun,
Tom Boy,
Spandau Ballet,
Khruangbin,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.