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 Cameroon and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 spring reverb 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 Kevin Saunderson to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Michelle Simonal,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cymande,
Scrapy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Alice Coltrane,
The Electric Prunes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Erasure,
Bush Tetras,
Kool Moe Dee,
Iggy Pop,
Marc Almond,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Prince Buster,
KRS-One,
Amazonics,
Todd Rundgren,
Lightning Bolt,
Jesper Dahlback,
Matthew Halsall,
Joe Smooth,
The Cure,
Swans,
Sam Rivers,
The Offenders,
Technova,
Mo-Dettes,
JFA,
Cybotron,
Malaria!,
The Knickerbockers,
Bill Wells,
Fad Gadget,
Roy Ayers,
AZ,
Ken Boothe,
The Gories,
Liliput,
Thompson Twins,
Minutemen,
Urselle,
Godley & Creme,
Blake Baxter,
Max Romeo,
Fugazi,
Bob Dylan,
Piero Umiliani,
The Misunderstood,
Darondo,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Crispy Ambulance,
Make Up,
Country Teasers,
Scientists,
Surgeon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rakim,
Toni Rubio,
Duran Duran,
Royal Trux,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.