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 Syria and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
Oneida,
Dorothy Ashby,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lindisfarne,
Zapp,
Bad Manners,
Delta 5,
Black Bananas,
Don Cherry,
Dual Sessions,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
John Holt,
Lee Hazlewood,
Blancmange,
Hardrive,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sun Ra,
Roger Hodgson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jeff Lynne,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Dirtbombs,
ABC,
Shoche,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Little Man,
Grauzone,
Lightning Bolt,
Stereo Dub,
Aaron Thompson,
Marmalade,
Trumans Water,
Tres Demented,
Roxette,
Gil Scott Heron,
Shuggie Otis,
Circle Jerks,
The Mojo Men,
Smog,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bobby Womack,
Wolf Eyes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Buzzcocks,
The Selecter,
Tubeway Army,
Man Eating Sloth,
Josef K,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Barrington Levy,
The Durutti Column,
Sex Pistols,
Bill Wells,
The Vogues,
Whodini,
Jacques Brel,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nik Kershaw,
The Dead C,
Graham Central Station,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.