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 the UAE and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 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 Robert Hood to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Depeche Mode,
David McCallum,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fat Boys,
The Divine Comedy,
Kurtis Blow,
Bootsy Collins,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Dirtbombs,
Patti Smith,
Barrington Levy,
Joey Negro,
Eden Ahbez,
Sugar Minott,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Offenders,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jawbox,
Altered Images,
Sixth Finger,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pussy Galore,
China Crisis,
Harpers Bizarre,
Severed Heads,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Deakin,
Soul II Soul,
Wally Richardson,
The Mummies,
The Star Department,
Hashim,
Pere Ubu,
Gabor Szabo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Aloha Tigers,
Quando Quango,
Monks,
The Last Poets,
The Monks,
The Motions,
the Normal,
Alison Limerick,
Alice Coltrane,
Hot Snakes,
Dual Sessions,
The Gladiators,
Byron Stingily,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jacques Brel,
Mission of Burma,
Colin Newman,
The Knickerbockers,
Audionom,
Hoover,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Oblivians,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Dawn Penn,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.