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 Libya and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Manchester and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Brass Construction 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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Neon Judgement,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
These Immortal Souls,
Lyres,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Joey Negro,
David Bowie,
Television,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Robert Hood,
Nico,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Echospace,
Pylon,
Danielle Patucci,
The Black Dice,
Black Moon,
DJ Style,
Donny Hathaway,
Monks,
The Misunderstood,
Erykah Badu,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Fortunes,
Barclay James Harvest,
Soul II Soul,
Throbbing Gristle,
Morten Harket,
The Barracudas,
Excepter,
Soft Machine,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Frankie Knuckles,
Wasted Youth,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Susan Cadogan,
DJ Sneak,
Drexciya,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Symarip,
Black Pus,
The Index,
The Fire Engines,
Moby Grape,
Jeru the Damaja,
Idris Muhammad,
T.S.O.L.,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Index,
Youth Brigade,
KRS-One,
Bobby Sherman,
The Busters,
Scrapy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gichy Dan,
Bush Tetras,
Nas,
The Offenders,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.