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 Norway and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Black Sheep to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Aswad,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
China Crisis,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kool Moe Dee,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Derrick Morgan,
The Happenings,
The Dead C,
Pole,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ohio Players,
Marmalade,
Tubeway Army,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Can,
Albert Ayler,
Television,
Sugar Minott,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Eurythmics,
Angry Samoans,
Gastr Del Sol,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Radiopuhelimet,
David Axelrod,
Gichy Dan,
The Moleskins,
Lalo Schifrin,
Oblivians,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Gun Club,
World's Most,
Dave Gahan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bobby Womack,
Donny Hathaway,
Sonny Sharrock,
Todd Rundgren,
Sex Pistols,
Slave,
The Zeros,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dorothy Ashby,
Minor Threat,
The Blackbyrds,
Subhumans,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Leonard Cohen,
The Red Krayola,
Wolf Eyes,
Donald Byrd,
Nirvana,
Grauzone,
Black Moon,
Carl Craig,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.