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 Portugal and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 theremin 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 The Selecter to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Roxette,
Half Japanese,
Severed Heads,
Ituana,
Girls At Our Best!,
Judy Mowatt,
Hasil Adkins,
Pagans,
Joey Negro,
Mars,
ABC,
Monolake,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Subhumans,
Blake Baxter,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Monks,
Black Flag,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Main Source,
The Happenings,
Porter Ricks,
Slick Rick,
The Misunderstood,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
cv313,
Dorothy Ashby,
T. Rex,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Magazine,
The J.B.'s,
The Count Five,
Das Ding,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Traffic Nightmare,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Infiniti,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cameo,
Malaria!,
Anthony Braxton,
the Swans,
Von Mondo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sarah Menescal,
Mission of Burma,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pylon,
The Doors,
Groovy Waters,
Scrapy,
Oneida,
Boz Scaggs,
Max Romeo,
Crash Course in Science,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sun Ra,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Pretty Things,
Connie Case,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.