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 South Africa and from Mumbai.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Red Krayola to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Lalann,
The Detroit Cobras,
New Order,
Slick Rick,
Vainqueur,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Human League,
Big Daddy Kane,
John Holt,
Sight & Sound,
Camberwell Now,
Derrick Morgan,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Junior Murvin,
The Blackbyrds,
Heaven 17,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Grass Roots,
Nik Kershaw,
Mission of Burma,
Visage,
Bronski Beat,
Fela Kuti,
B.T. Express,
DJ Style,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Agitation Free,
Prince Buster,
Eric Copeland,
Harpers Bizarre,
Zero Boys,
Erasure,
the Fania All-Stars,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ronnie Foster,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ultra Naté,
Sound Behaviour,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gang Starr,
Loose Ends,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
David McCallum,
Bush Tetras,
The Last Poets,
Sonny Sharrock,
Make Up,
Todd Terry,
Basic Channel,
John Coltrane,
Q65,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Music Machine,
Gang of Four,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.