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 Dominica and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe 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 Pantytec to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Happenings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Heaven 17,
Pulsallama,
cv313,
Unwound,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Underground Resistance,
Outsiders,
Lower 48,
Cymande,
The Fuzztones,
The Index,
Harry Pussy,
Radiopuhelimet,
David Bowie,
Michelle Simonal,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Malaria!,
Sparks,
Suburban Knight,
Simply Red,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Blues Magoos,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Happenings,
Chris & Cosey,
The Tremeloes,
Essential Logic,
Rufus Thomas,
Henry Cow,
Matthew Bourne,
Mad Mike,
The Pretty Things,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nas,
The Mummies,
Sugar Minott,
Erasure,
Con Funk Shun,
the Germs,
Tres Demented,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
the Association,
Isaac Hayes,
Susan Cadogan,
Circle Jerks,
Roxy Music,
Johnny Clarke,
Darondo,
Roy Ayers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Yazoo,
Brass Construction,
Marshall Jefferson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Donald Byrd,
New York Dolls,
Siglo XX,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.