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 Dominican Republic and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Stockholm.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Soul II Soul to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dennis Brown,
DJ Sneak,
Blancmange,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bobby Byrd,
Accadde A,
Suicide,
The New Christs,
B.T. Express,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gichy Dan,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Fall,
H. Thieme,
Sexual Harrassment,
Robert Görl,
the Soft Cell,
Mission of Burma,
Sister Nancy,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Model 500,
The Martian,
KRS-One,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
David Bowie,
Jacob Miller,
Black Moon,
Country Teasers,
Public Enemy,
Letta Mbulu,
A Certain Ratio,
Scrapy,
Clear Light,
Sixth Finger,
The Red Krayola,
Fela Kuti,
Bauhaus,
Fear,
FM Einheit,
Oneida,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Banda Bassotti,
Sound Behaviour,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Dual Sessions,
Marc Almond,
The Stooges,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Section 25,
Maleditus Sound,
Ice-T,
Reagan Youth,
Scott Walker,
Dave Gahan,
Pagans,
The Victims,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.