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 Sweden and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bologna.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Dirtbombs to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Inner City,
Danielle Patucci,
Donny Hathaway,
John Foxx,
Pagans,
Eric B and Rakim,
June Days,
Derrick Morgan,
The Cure,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Mummies,
Funkadelic,
Joe Finger,
Stockholm Monsters,
Royal Trux,
Simply Red,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Knickerbockers,
Terry Callier,
Man Parrish,
Marc Almond,
Derrick May,
The Skatalites,
Mad Mike,
Roxy Music,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Happenings,
Boz Scaggs,
Matthew Halsall,
The Last Poets,
Bronski Beat,
Cal Tjader,
EPMD,
F. McDonald,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Crispy Ambulance,
World's Most,
Skriet,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
David McCallum,
Lou Reed,
Franke,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Cowsills,
The Searchers,
James White and The Blacks,
Ken Boothe,
Heaven 17,
Funky Four + One,
Stetsasonic,
The Gap Band,
Suburban Knight,
Andrew Hill,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Warsaw,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.