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 Malawi and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Glasgow.
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 synthesizer 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 DNA to the jazz 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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kevin Saunderson,
Spandau Ballet,
Agitation Free,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Techniques,
Rapeman,
The Toasters,
The Walker Brothers,
Bad Manners,
Lungfish,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Bar-Kays,
Grey Daturas,
Black Flag,
K-Klass,
Scratch Acid,
Marvin Gaye,
DJ Sneak,
D'Angelo,
Joensuu 1685,
Sex Pistols,
Jimmy McGriff,
Interpol,
Maurizio,
Royal Trux,
Mr. Review,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The New Christs,
Don Cherry,
Au Pairs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Moebius,
Bob Dylan,
A Certain Ratio,
The Gladiators,
Procol Harum,
The Cowsills,
T.S.O.L.,
Girls At Our Best!,
DJ Style,
Gong,
Davy DMX,
Man Parrish,
World's Most,
Delta 5,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Los Fastidios,
New Age Steppers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Hoover,
Toni Rubio,
Skarface,
Janne Schatter,
Erasure,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Blancmange,
The Angels of Light,
Stereo Dub,
Schoolly D,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.