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 Sudan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Durutti Column,
Livin' Joy,
Minor Threat,
Piero Umiliani,
Eurythmics,
Talk Talk,
Drive Like Jehu,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fatback Band,
Carl Craig,
The Black Dice,
Masters at Work,
The Slackers,
Nation of Ulysses,
48th St. Collective,
EPMD,
Heaven 17,
Mark Hollis,
the Fania All-Stars,
Slave,
Jesper Dahlback,
Prince Buster,
Hot Snakes,
Eric Copeland,
Tommy Roe,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rekid,
Whodini,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Deakin,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Gladiators,
Marcia Griffiths,
Al Stewart,
Brand Nubian,
Ice-T,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Seeds,
a-ha,
The Saints,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Birthday Party,
Tropical Tobacco,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ultimate Spinach,
Royal Trux,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Derrick Morgan,
La Düsseldorf,
The Red Krayola,
Monks,
Johnny Clarke,
Surgeon,
New Age Steppers,
Ludus,
Magma,
Kaleidoscope,
Crime,
Nico,
Donald Byrd,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.