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 Jordan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 Taipei and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 güiro 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 Brothers Johnson to the dance 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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics 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 a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Rites of Spring,
Crime,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Hoover,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Livin' Joy,
Joy Division,
Babytalk,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lakeside,
China Crisis,
John Coltrane,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Stetsasonic,
X-Ray Spex,
Bobby Womack,
Cal Tjader,
The J.B.'s,
The Trojans,
Easy Going,
Scott Walker,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Main Source,
Mark Hollis,
Danielle Patucci,
Underground Resistance,
Adolescents,
CMW,
AZ,
Gang of Four,
Archie Shepp,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Man Parrish,
Deadbeat,
Chrome,
Nas,
E-Dancer,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Brick,
The Black Dice,
Sugar Minott,
Lyres,
Girls At Our Best!,
Wings,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sun Ra,
Circle Jerks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Alphaville,
Audionom,
the Association,
Max Romeo,
Dorothy Ashby,
La Düsseldorf,
Q65,
Soft Machine,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Kinks,
Sex Pistols,
Dawn Penn,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.