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 Dominica and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Busters to the rap 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 Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Soft Cell,
B.T. Express,
One Last Wish,
The Moody Blues,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Grass Roots,
Outsiders,
Scrapy,
The Buckinghams,
U.S. Maple,
Robert Hood,
The Busters,
Aaron Thompson,
Neil Young,
Ossler,
Iggy Pop,
Todd Rundgren,
Brand Nubian,
Siglo XX,
Terrestrial Tones,
Man Parrish,
The Red Krayola,
Amon Düül,
Scientists,
China Crisis,
Ice-T,
The Neon Judgement,
Second Layer,
Bush Tetras,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sandy B,
10cc,
Lee Hazlewood,
Tears for Fears,
The Barracudas,
The Evens,
Arthur Verocai,
Kevin Saunderson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
L. Decosne,
The Names,
Robert Wyatt,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Beau Brummels,
Soul Sonic Force,
Marvin Gaye,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Gap Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bobby Sherman,
The Mummies,
Blossom Toes,
Tommy Roe,
Cecil Taylor,
The Last Poets,
The Blackbyrds,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pylon,
Whodini,
LL Cool J,
Rosa Yemen,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.