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 Cambodia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the grunge 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 Trojans. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Kerrie Biddell,
Cymande,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ohio Players,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lightning Bolt,
Motorama,
David Bowie,
Negative Approach,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
X-Ray Spex,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bobby Sherman,
Wasted Youth,
Kool Moe Dee,
Cybotron,
Gang of Four,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Crispy Ambulance,
Arcadia,
The Litter,
Eurythmics,
Cal Tjader,
Girls At Our Best!,
Arab on Radar,
John Cale,
Chris & Cosey,
Depeche Mode,
The Star Department,
Masters at Work,
Interpol,
The Moody Blues,
Harry Pussy,
Tears for Fears,
Con Funk Shun,
Brick,
The Selecter,
Rufus Thomas,
Index,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Slackers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Joe Finger,
Easy Going,
Angry Samoans,
Bizarre Inc.,
Amazonics,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
EPMD,
Bronski Beat,
Eric Dolphy,
The Smoke,
The Buckinghams,
Scrapy,
Colin Newman,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Monks,
Lindisfarne,
Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product.
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.