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 Brunei and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 synthesizer 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the grunge 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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every EPMD record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Los Fastidios,
Jeff Mills,
Sarah Menescal,
the Sonics,
Tom Boy,
The Smiths,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Trumans Water,
The Toasters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Golliwogs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nirvana,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Michelle Simonal,
Smog,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eddi Front,
The Mummies,
The Grass Roots,
Spoonie Gee,
The Misunderstood,
T.S.O.L.,
Pet Shop Boys,
Brass Construction,
Tres Demented,
Gang Green,
Blossom Toes,
The Beau Brummels,
The Pop Group,
Iggy Pop,
Isaac Hayes,
Jesper Dahlback,
Monks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Donald Byrd,
The Seeds,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Basic Channel,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Hot Snakes,
Can,
Procol Harum,
Fluxion,
Eurythmics,
Bob Dylan,
The Slits,
Thompson Twins,
Soft Cell,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Q and Not U,
Soul II Soul,
Mary Jane Girls,
Matthew Halsall,
Prince Buster,
Moebius,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Joey Negro,
Subhumans,
Ossler,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.