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 Barbados and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba 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 Index to the rock 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 Jeff Mills. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
The Litter,
Kerri Chandler,
The Beau Brummels,
Ice-T,
Bill Near,
Slick Rick,
R.M.O.,
Dark Day,
Bob Dylan,
Alice Coltrane,
Skarface,
Moebius,
Rufus Thomas,
Altered Images,
OOIOO,
Archie Shepp,
Schoolly D,
Chris & Cosey,
Peter & Gordon,
Con Funk Shun,
The Mojo Men,
The Moody Blues,
Grandmaster Flash,
Harmonia,
Accadde A,
The Kinks,
The Raincoats,
Banda Bassotti,
Arab on Radar,
Camberwell Now,
KRS-One,
Sex Pistols,
Magazine,
Vladislav Delay,
New Order,
The Fall,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Funkadelic,
Marmalade,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Babytalk,
John Cale,
Robert Görl,
Jandek,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Amon Düül II,
Yellowson,
Carl Craig,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Roger Hodgson,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Soft Cell,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Quadrant,
Grauzone,
Lebanon Hanover,
Oneida,
Brothers Johnson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Judy Mowatt,
Eric Copeland,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.