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 Kyrgyzstan and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba 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 Kevin Saunderson to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Depeche Mode,
Thee Headcoats,
Outsiders,
Youth Brigade,
E-Dancer,
The Kinks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
DNA,
The Searchers,
Arab on Radar,
Porter Ricks,
JFA,
Easy Going,
Tears for Fears,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Japan,
Icehouse,
D'Angelo,
Quantec,
Bang On A Can,
Robert Wyatt,
Jeru the Damaja,
Glenn Branca,
Harmonia,
Blake Baxter,
Dual Sessions,
Boredoms,
The Fall,
Grauzone,
Sex Pistols,
Public Enemy,
48th St. Collective,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kas Product,
The Red Krayola,
Reuben Wilson,
Al Stewart,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Loose Ends,
Monks,
Sandy B,
Banda Bassotti,
Jeff Mills,
Pole,
Terrestrial Tones,
Anthony Braxton,
Slick Rick,
Marshall Jefferson,
Masters at Work,
Minutemen,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Last Poets,
Juan Atkins,
Spandau Ballet,
Connie Case,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.