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 Gabon and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Slick Rick,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Wings,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Mandrill,
The Mojo Men,
Rosa Yemen,
Tommy Roe,
The Pretty Things,
Fear,
Jacques Brel,
Livin' Joy,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Basic Channel,
Aloha Tigers,
Liliput,
Magma,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tropical Tobacco,
U.S. Maple,
La Düsseldorf,
Connie Case,
Eddi Front,
Hot Snakes,
Minnie Riperton,
Suburban Knight,
Ultravox,
The Last Poets,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ultimate Spinach,
Harmonia,
Godley & Creme,
the Bar-Kays,
Junior Murvin,
Whodini,
Susan Cadogan,
Youth Brigade,
Brand Nubian,
Main Source,
10cc,
John Lydon,
Kaleidoscope,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Index,
Black Sheep,
Joe Finger,
John Coltrane,
Section 25,
Sarah Menescal,
Newcleus,
The Monks,
Barrington Levy,
Ludus,
Don Cherry,
Pulsallama,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Sonics,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Soul II Soul,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.