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 Niger and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 808 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 D'Angelo to the dance 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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Index,
Supertramp,
Davy DMX,
Prince Buster,
Warsaw,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Slits,
Mark Hollis,
Mo-Dettes,
Roxy Music,
Cal Tjader,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Hasil Adkins,
Smog,
Ronan,
Moby Grape,
Can,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
8 Eyed Spy,
The United States of America,
X-Ray Spex,
Moss Icon,
the Bar-Kays,
Q and Not U,
X-102,
Pierre Henry,
Yusef Lateef,
Hot Snakes,
Bobby Byrd,
Lakeside,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Monks,
Erasure,
The Moody Blues,
Soulsonic Force,
Kerri Chandler,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Fuzztones,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
June Days,
Peter & Gordon,
Audionom,
Arab on Radar,
Interpol,
Ronnie Foster,
Gong,
Aloha Tigers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Radiohead,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Franke,
Eric B and Rakim,
Tres Demented,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ken Boothe,
Black Bananas,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.