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 Taiwan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 theremin 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 D'Angelo to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Heaven 17,
Funkadelic,
Brand Nubian,
Cecil Taylor,
Sexual Harrassment,
Scratch Acid,
Absolute Body Control,
The Wake,
Reuben Wilson,
KRS-One,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ice-T,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sister Nancy,
The Monochrome Set,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Masters at Work,
The Last Poets,
Roy Ayers,
the Normal,
Black Pus,
Steve Hackett,
Isaac Hayes,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marvin Gaye,
Sugar Minott,
The Star Department,
MDC,
the Association,
John Coltrane,
Television,
The Grass Roots,
Can,
Section 25,
Electric Prunes,
The Offenders,
Visage,
Neu!,
Aaron Thompson,
Toni Rubio,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Marc Almond,
Avey Tare,
Jeru the Damaja,
JFA,
Terry Callier,
Susan Cadogan,
Eric Copeland,
Eurythmics,
Sex Pistols,
Clear Light,
Quadrant,
DJ Sneak,
Sound Behaviour,
Cybotron,
The Fall,
The Moleskins,
Howard Jones,
Harry Pussy,
Joe Smooth,
The United States of America,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.