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 Palau and from Lille.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Hashim to the techno 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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mr. Review,
The Slits,
Morten Harket,
Kaleidoscope,
Don Cherry,
Fugazi,
Mary Jane Girls,
Angry Samoans,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Y Pants,
These Immortal Souls,
Ralphi Rosario,
Brass Construction,
Roger Hodgson,
Black Bananas,
Arthur Verocai,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Dave Clark Five,
One Last Wish,
The Index,
Talk Talk,
Faust,
Audionom,
Erykah Badu,
Pole,
Kerri Chandler,
Arab on Radar,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nik Kershaw,
Babytalk,
Toni Rubio,
David Axelrod,
Radiohead,
Donald Byrd,
Lou Reed,
The Pop Group,
Lalann,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Normal,
Spandau Ballet,
Flash Fearless,
Second Layer,
Gichy Dan,
Moss Icon,
Television,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Infiniti,
Boredoms,
The Fortunes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Gap Band,
Ultimate Spinach,
Johnny Osbourne,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Swans,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eurythmics,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.