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 Madagascar and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 synthesizer 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 Television Personalities to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Clear Light,
H. Thieme,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
D'Angelo,
Traffic Nightmare,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Doobie Brothers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
ABBA,
The Beau Brummels,
The Toasters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Albert Ayler,
Radio Birdman,
Roy Ayers,
the Association,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Con Funk Shun,
The Dirtbombs,
Rotary Connection,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Arab on Radar,
Mandrill,
Mark Hollis,
The Golliwogs,
June of 44,
Toni Rubio,
Blake Baxter,
Panda Bear,
Marine Girls,
Darondo,
China Crisis,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
This Heat,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Martian,
Alton Ellis,
The Saints,
Max Romeo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Unwound,
Ossler,
Marc Almond,
Minny Pops,
Wings,
Kas Product,
Eve St. Jones,
The Gories,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Andrew Hill,
K-Klass,
Goldenarms,
Swell Maps,
Monks,
The Blues Magoos,
F. McDonald,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.