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 Malaysia and from Calgary.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Amazonics to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Sonics,
The Misunderstood,
Au Pairs,
Depeche Mode,
Drexciya,
Toni Rubio,
John Coltrane,
The Skatalites,
Bad Manners,
Pole,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Durutti Column,
Niagra,
Fela Kuti,
The Doobie Brothers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eden Ahbez,
Aloha Tigers,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Henry Cow,
The Gap Band,
Lyres,
Moby Grape,
Hot Snakes,
Adolescents,
Juan Atkins,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Qualms,
Tubeway Army,
Vladislav Delay,
X-102,
Carl Craig,
Make Up,
Colin Newman,
Public Enemy,
Supertramp,
Altered Images,
Delta 5,
Max Romeo,
Skaos,
Sound Behaviour,
Silicon Teens,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Organ,
Ludus,
Kool Moe Dee,
Johnny Clarke,
The Black Dice,
Black Pus,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Blackbyrds,
PIL,
The Buckinghams,
Cameo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Con Funk Shun,
the Normal,
JFA,
Laurel Aitken,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.