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 Kosovo and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Modern Lovers to the jazz 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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
Steve Hackett,
Donald Byrd,
Archie Shepp,
Altered Images,
Quadrant,
Alphaville,
Jawbox,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Outsiders,
Kevin Saunderson,
Adolescents,
The Mummies,
John Foxx,
T.S.O.L.,
Brothers Johnson,
Rufus Thomas,
The Monks,
ABBA,
Eurythmics,
Funky Four + One,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marshall Jefferson,
Eddi Front,
The Dirtbombs,
Panda Bear,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sister Nancy,
Harmonia,
CMW,
Country Teasers,
Guru Guru,
Lindisfarne,
Inner City,
R.M.O.,
Smog,
Crash Course in Science,
Mandrill,
Cal Tjader,
Black Bananas,
Lee Hazlewood,
Moby Grape,
Sound Behaviour,
Livin' Joy,
John Lydon,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Radio Birdman,
The Dead C,
Yellowson,
F. McDonald,
Sandy B,
Tres Demented,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Neon Judgement,
Funkadelic,
Lalann,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bang On A Can,
the Human League,
Jacques Brel,
Tears for Fears,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.