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 Iran and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the crunk 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five 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 oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q65 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
This Heat,
Moebius,
DNA,
Kool Moe Dee,
KRS-One,
Boz Scaggs,
Blancmange,
Soft Machine,
Piero Umiliani,
Scientists,
Lebanon Hanover,
Scion,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Smoke,
MDC,
Todd Terry,
Sixth Finger,
Newcleus,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Arcadia,
Eric B and Rakim,
Drive Like Jehu,
Morten Harket,
Mad Mike,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The J.B.'s,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Arab on Radar,
The Seeds,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ice-T,
David McCallum,
Heaven 17,
Ten City,
Khruangbin,
Ornette Coleman,
Brand Nubian,
Rod Modell,
Bobby Sherman,
Television,
Absolute Body Control,
Faust,
Cameo,
The Gap Band,
Camouflage,
The Neon Judgement,
Bootsy Collins,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Cluster,
The Grass Roots,
the Slits,
X-Ray Spex,
Tres Demented,
Stetsasonic,
Hardrive,
Trumans Water,
Procol Harum,
The Dirtbombs,
Oblivians,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.