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 Uruguay and from Salvador.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 David Bowie 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 Bootsy Collins to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
10cc,
Crooked Eye,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Morten Harket,
Procol Harum,
Wolf Eyes,
Siglo XX,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Derrick Morgan,
Davy DMX,
Maleditus Sound,
Audionom,
Byron Stingily,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Quadrant,
DNA,
Hasil Adkins,
Mr. Review,
Accadde A,
The Music Machine,
kango's stein massive,
Mad Mike,
Eli Mardock,
The Fall,
Anakelly,
Intrusion,
Rotary Connection,
Sexual Harrassment,
Shoche,
Yazoo,
Technova,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kaleidoscope,
Can,
Joe Smooth,
Cymande,
Lungfish,
Goldenarms,
Little Man,
Brand Nubian,
Model 500,
Camouflage,
Donald Byrd,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Dark Day,
Gang Starr,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Scion,
Lyres,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Marvin Gaye,
Johnny Clarke,
The American Breed,
Sandy B,
Piero Umiliani,
The Red Krayola,
Rites of Spring,
The Moleskins,
The Fortunes,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.