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 Monaco and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 linndrum 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Fall,
Tres Demented,
10cc,
The Cramps,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Roy Ayers,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Wake,
Funky Four + One,
Subhumans,
Gil Scott Heron,
Magma,
Dual Sessions,
Yusef Lateef,
Yazoo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
New York Dolls,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The American Breed,
Carl Craig,
Das Ding,
Chrome,
the Association,
the Slits,
The Divine Comedy,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Trojans,
Ponytail,
Pulsallama,
Cymande,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lakeside,
Dark Day,
Althea and Donna,
The J.B.'s,
Black Bananas,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
John Holt,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Modern Lovers,
Deakin,
Banda Bassotti,
Sällskapet,
Spoonie Gee,
Ronnie Foster,
Agitation Free,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sonny Sharrock,
Freddie Wadling,
Gerry Rafferty,
Silicon Teens,
Nation of Ulysses,
Big Daddy Kane,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.