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 Cape Verde and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Underground Resistance to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Dolphy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Blossom Toes,
Aural Exciters,
The Victims,
the Germs,
Rites of Spring,
The Neon Judgement,
Soulsonic Force,
The Cramps,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pole,
Television,
The Grass Roots,
The Gun Club,
Joyce Sims,
Big Daddy Kane,
Iggy Pop,
Aswad,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ralphi Rosario,
Avey Tare,
Andrew Hill,
Sonic Youth,
cv313,
Kurtis Blow,
Zapp,
The Fire Engines,
The Skatalites,
Yusef Lateef,
The Seeds,
DNA,
The Offenders,
Organ,
Electric Prunes,
Bill Near,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sex Pistols,
Bill Wells,
Q and Not U,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gichy Dan,
Ronnie Foster,
Main Source,
Oneida,
Saccharine Trust,
Das Ding,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lalo Schifrin,
Isaac Hayes,
Man Parrish,
Section 25,
Barclay James Harvest,
Derrick Morgan,
The Evens,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
World's Most,
Archie Shepp,
New Order,
Quando Quango,
Masters at Work,
The Music Machine,
Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme.
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.