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 Turkmenistan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Anakelly to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ohio Players,
Glenn Branca,
David Axelrod,
Jacob Miller,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Index,
Henry Cow,
Fatback Band,
The Wake,
Pussy Galore,
DNA,
Ronan,
Joy Division,
Tim Buckley,
The Residents,
The Gladiators,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Selecter,
Amon Düül II,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Walker Brothers,
Stereo Dub,
Gabor Szabo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Mummies,
Howard Jones,
Spoonie Gee,
Niagra,
Laurel Aitken,
Aswad,
Lucky Dragons,
Arab on Radar,
Yellowson,
The Martian,
Man Eating Sloth,
Brand Nubian,
Danielle Patucci,
Gong,
Con Funk Shun,
Amazonics,
Sixth Finger,
The Slits,
Warsaw,
Toni Rubio,
Grauzone,
H. Thieme,
Von Mondo,
Average White Band,
Shoche,
Los Fastidios,
The Fuzztones,
Vainqueur,
Nirvana,
Thee Headcoats,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sonic Youth,
Alphaville,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fire Engines,
Joey Negro,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.