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 Jamaica and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Bremen.
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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Brand Nubian to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gerry Rafferty record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
PIL,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Crime,
Boz Scaggs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pussy Galore,
Albert Ayler,
Cheater Slicks,
Heaven 17,
Amon Düül II,
Maurizio,
Desert Stars,
Marc Almond,
The Moleskins,
Johnny Osbourne,
The New Christs,
The Cure,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Don Cherry,
Steve Hackett,
The Cramps,
Rapeman,
Yellowson,
Talk Talk,
Matthew Halsall,
the Slits,
The Durutti Column,
The Red Krayola,
Hashim,
Bootsy Collins,
Spandau Ballet,
Brand Nubian,
Rites of Spring,
Mandrill,
Boogie Down Productions,
Matthew Bourne,
Donald Byrd,
Electric Prunes,
Sparks,
Ituana,
Bush Tetras,
Bronski Beat,
Porter Ricks,
The Count Five,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Mo-Dettes,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gil Scott Heron,
Flipper,
Harmonia,
Faraquet,
The Skatalites,
Derrick Morgan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Can,
Sun Ra,
Lyres,
DJ Sneak,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.