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 Equatorial Guinea and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Scott Walker to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Arab on Radar,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fluxion,
JFA,
Slick Rick,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Brothers Johnson,
Prince Buster,
China Crisis,
Bobby Byrd,
Gabor Szabo,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Jacob Miller,
Tres Demented,
Japan,
Scientists,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bang On A Can,
The Smoke,
Roxette,
Roger Hodgson,
Pagans,
The Music Machine,
Cameo,
H. Thieme,
La Düsseldorf,
Rufus Thomas,
Crooked Eye,
New Age Steppers,
Idris Muhammad,
Carl Craig,
David Bowie,
Blake Baxter,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Heaven 17,
Thompson Twins,
Guru Guru,
Robert Görl,
Wally Richardson,
Lindisfarne,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sun Ra,
Derrick May,
David McCallum,
Bad Manners,
Absolute Body Control,
Janne Schatter,
Amazonics,
Peter & Gordon,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cecil Taylor,
Ice-T,
The Index,
The Last Poets,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Chrome,
Skaos,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.