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 Netherlands and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Robert Palmer 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 The Moleskins to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
The Smiths,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Reuben Wilson,
Fatback Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Magma,
Heaven 17,
D'Angelo,
Fugazi,
Ohio Players,
DNA,
Harpers Bizarre,
Scott Walker,
The J.B.'s,
Average White Band,
Thompson Twins,
Y Pants,
Minutemen,
Prince Buster,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Blake Baxter,
The Skatalites,
Goldenarms,
Spandau Ballet,
Stiv Bators,
Eurythmics,
the Swans,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Grass Roots,
Tears for Fears,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Yaz,
Amazonics,
Motorama,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Yusef Lateef,
The Seeds,
Mandrill,
Radiopuhelimet,
China Crisis,
The Fuzztones,
Black Moon,
Faraquet,
Flash Fearless,
Henry Cow,
Mary Jane Girls,
Leonard Cohen,
Michelle Simonal,
New Age Steppers,
Todd Terry,
The Fire Engines,
The Dead C,
Schoolly D,
Jimmy McGriff,
The United States of America,
Robert Wyatt,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.