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 Gambia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 sitar 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the grime 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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Cybotron,
Monks,
The New Christs,
Cameo,
Boredoms,
Scratch Acid,
Vladislav Delay,
Suicide,
Rakim,
The J.B.'s,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Donny Hathaway,
Jeff Lynne,
John Cale,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Red Krayola,
Michelle Simonal,
Spoonie Gee,
Yusef Lateef,
John Coltrane,
Ice-T,
U.S. Maple,
La Düsseldorf,
Panda Bear,
D'Angelo,
Joensuu 1685,
Radio Birdman,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Skatalites,
Rhythm & Sound,
CMW,
H. Thieme,
Kerri Chandler,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Golliwogs,
The Offenders,
Basic Channel,
The Techniques,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gang Starr,
The Vogues,
the Sonics,
Derrick Morgan,
Unrelated Segments,
The Pop Group,
Steve Hackett,
Nirvana,
The American Breed,
Eric B and Rakim,
Wally Richardson,
The Evens,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sun City Girls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Iggy Pop,
Lalann,
June Days,
The Selecter,
Circle Jerks,
Siglo XX,
The Alarm Clocks,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.