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 San Marino and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Lou Reed 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 Porter Ricks to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May 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 grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
Jeff Mills,
Boogie Down Productions,
Grandmaster Flash,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Sound,
Sister Nancy,
Motorama,
Tomorrow,
EPMD,
Maurizio,
Electric Prunes,
Swell Maps,
Con Funk Shun,
Masters at Work,
Bobby Hutcherson,
MDC,
The Skatalites,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Byron Stingily,
Eurythmics,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cybotron,
Little Man,
The Dave Clark Five,
Livin' Joy,
June of 44,
The Happenings,
Roger Hodgson,
Saccharine Trust,
Agitation Free,
Lalann,
Derrick Morgan,
Average White Band,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
T. Rex,
Ice-T,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pantytec,
Crispy Ambulance,
Fela Kuti,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Reuben Wilson,
Don Cherry,
Wasted Youth,
The Smiths,
The Smoke,
Yellowson,
Fear,
Kurtis Blow,
Y Pants,
The Doors,
Godley & Creme,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cal Tjader,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Beau Brummels,
Jerry's Kids,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Young Marble Giants,
Arcadia,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.