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 St Lucia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Vainqueur to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Nas,
Quando Quango,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bluetip,
The Electric Prunes,
Ronan,
8 Eyed Spy,
La Düsseldorf,
Neil Young,
Darondo,
John Coltrane,
Half Japanese,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Schoolly D,
Banda Bassotti,
Talk Talk,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Scion,
Slick Rick,
Joey Negro,
Yusef Lateef,
The Mummies,
These Immortal Souls,
Suburban Knight,
Alice Coltrane,
kango's stein massive,
The Names,
X-Ray Spex,
Magma,
Supertramp,
Bootsy Collins,
Oblivians,
Desert Stars,
Sam Rivers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Swans,
Sex Pistols,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pylon,
Arcadia,
Joe Smooth,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Tremeloes,
Kayak,
Sonic Youth,
June Days,
U.S. Maple,
The Misunderstood,
The Evens,
The Young Rascals,
Lindisfarne,
Deadbeat,
Whodini,
Johnny Clarke,
Skriet,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Graham Central Station,
Davy DMX,
The Five Americans,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.