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 Serbia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Glambeats Corp. to the dance 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 Bronski Beat. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Jerry's Kids,
Yusef Lateef,
The Searchers,
Ituana,
Rakim,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Visage,
Marc Almond,
Technova,
Stetsasonic,
Jacques Brel,
Chrome,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Cure,
Stereo Dub,
the Germs,
Rapeman,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tubeway Army,
Don Cherry,
Mary Jane Girls,
Grandmaster Flash,
Reagan Youth,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Liliput,
Lungfish,
The Martian,
Spandau Ballet,
Jeru the Damaja,
The United States of America,
The Moleskins,
Terry Callier,
Flash Fearless,
Guru Guru,
8 Eyed Spy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Can,
Panda Bear,
Juan Atkins,
Alton Ellis,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sandy B,
Urselle,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pantytec,
Jandek,
Zapp,
Pole,
The Seeds,
The Misunderstood,
Excepter,
Derrick May,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Chris Corsano,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jesper Dahlback,
Harry Pussy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Fear,
Godley & Creme,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.