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 Ireland and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 The Walker Brothers to the crunk 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 Groovy Waters. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
X-101,
Archie Shepp,
The Fuzztones,
The Invisible,
Barclay James Harvest,
Slick Rick,
Faust,
Boogie Down Productions,
Quantec,
Soul II Soul,
Bob Dylan,
Smog,
Animal Collective,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kerri Chandler,
Blake Baxter,
Bush Tetras,
Ultra Naté,
The Fire Engines,
Prince Buster,
The Beau Brummels,
the Fania All-Stars,
Camberwell Now,
MC5,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Howard Jones,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Gladiators,
The Evens,
The Detroit Cobras,
Silicon Teens,
the Slits,
The J.B.'s,
The Monks,
The Fall,
The Leaves,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Fatback Band,
Alton Ellis,
The Electric Prunes,
The Cure,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Smoke,
The United States of America,
Bronski Beat,
Jacques Brel,
Derrick Morgan,
Urselle,
Morten Harket,
Isaac Hayes,
Rotary Connection,
The Standells,
Danielle Patucci,
The Mummies,
Spandau Ballet,
John Coltrane,
Gil Scott Heron,
Monks,
Brick,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.