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 Tanzania and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Alison Limerick to the rock 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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Simply Red,
Rapeman,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eric B and Rakim,
Deepchord,
Lebanon Hanover,
Severed Heads,
Anakelly,
DNA,
Man Eating Sloth,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sällskapet,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Litter,
Hoover,
Dennis Brown,
Deadbeat,
The Fugs,
The Alarm Clocks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Nils Olav,
Gil Scott Heron,
The New Christs,
Soft Cell,
Scratch Acid,
Terry Callier,
Public Enemy,
Eli Mardock,
Desert Stars,
10cc,
Gabor Szabo,
Second Layer,
Marvin Gaye,
Sex Pistols,
The Fortunes,
Massinfluence,
Visage,
The Stooges,
Cal Tjader,
Dawn Penn,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Swell Maps,
Todd Rundgren,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Livin' Joy,
Camberwell Now,
The Angels of Light,
Easy Going,
June Days,
Cameo,
Johnny Clarke,
The Vogues,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Black Flag,
Roy Ayers,
Half Japanese,
The Slits,
The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five.
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.