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 Ecuador and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 clarinet 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 Jacob Miller to the dance 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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Moss Icon,
Ronnie Foster,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Invisible,
Slave,
Ituana,
Von Mondo,
Letta Mbulu,
The Misunderstood,
Public Enemy,
The Durutti Column,
K-Klass,
Quadrant,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mantronix,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kas Product,
Ludus,
Donald Byrd,
Alphaville,
Flipper,
Hasil Adkins,
The Five Americans,
Boogie Down Productions,
Swans,
Roy Ayers,
Mars,
The Evens,
Thompson Twins,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Joy Division,
The Smoke,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pagans,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sex Pistols,
Ken Boothe,
Heaven 17,
Nick Fraelich,
The Human League,
Pylon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Symarip,
Sarah Menescal,
The Dead C,
Black Sheep,
Flash Fearless,
A Certain Ratio,
Derrick Morgan,
CMW,
Jandek,
Patti Smith,
Kerrie Biddell,
Minor Threat,
Sight & Sound,
Malaria!,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.