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 Turkmenistan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 rhodes 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 Roy Ayers to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Soul Sonic Force,
Severed Heads,
Byron Stingily,
Joe Smooth,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The New Christs,
Cameo,
The Dave Clark Five,
Derrick Morgan,
Yusef Lateef,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Simply Red,
Quando Quango,
The Misunderstood,
Tres Demented,
The Detroit Cobras,
Don Cherry,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Alison Limerick,
Procol Harum,
Aural Exciters,
Max Romeo,
Joyce Sims,
Lalann,
Eric Dolphy,
The Last Poets,
Robert Hood,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kerri Chandler,
World's Most,
Spandau Ballet,
Lou Christie,
The Slits,
Deadbeat,
Newcleus,
Brick,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Crime,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Donny Hathaway,
X-Ray Spex,
CMW,
T.S.O.L.,
Boz Scaggs,
Cal Tjader,
Das Ding,
Scratch Acid,
Kas Product,
Eden Ahbez,
Colin Newman,
Bill Near,
Sam Rivers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pharoah Sanders,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Swans,
Juan Atkins,
Dennis Brown,
Sonic Youth,
Gabor Szabo,
Spoonie Gee,
Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons.
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.