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 Kenya and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 harpsichord 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the dance 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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Ronnie Foster,
48th St. Collective,
Intrusion,
The Kinks,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Smiths,
Monolake,
Negative Approach,
Moby Grape,
Susan Cadogan,
Rakim,
Peter & Gordon,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
These Immortal Souls,
The Gap Band,
Echospace,
Mary Jane Girls,
Popol Vuh,
The Martian,
Jacob Miller,
B.T. Express,
Swell Maps,
The Fuzztones,
Jesper Dahlback,
Tropical Tobacco,
Be Bop Deluxe,
JFA,
Roxy Music,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
David Bowie,
Skriet,
The Mummies,
Sandy B,
Metal Thangz,
The Misunderstood,
Idris Muhammad,
Interpol,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
A Certain Ratio,
Glambeats Corp.,
Leonard Cohen,
Von Mondo,
the Germs,
Rites of Spring,
Television Personalities,
Livin' Joy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Average White Band,
Scan 7,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joy Division,
The Sound,
Wire,
Harry Pussy,
Minutemen,
Robert Hood,
The Grass Roots,
Goldenarms,
FM Einheit,
Wolf Eyes,
Agent Orange,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.