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 Samoa and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Moss Icon to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks 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?
Gregory Isaacs,
Intrusion,
Monks,
K-Klass,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Absolute Body Control,
Skriet,
Wire,
Letta Mbulu,
John Coltrane,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Toasters,
Gichy Dan,
The Sonics,
Janne Schatter,
Kurtis Blow,
Wasted Youth,
Eurythmics,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Slits,
The Monks,
Tommy Roe,
Cybotron,
Andrew Hill,
Lee Hazlewood,
Yellowson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eric Dolphy,
The Motions,
Fat Boys,
Ronan,
Kerrie Biddell,
John Holt,
Trumans Water,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kenny Larkin,
Darondo,
The Young Rascals,
Drive Like Jehu,
Can,
The Standells,
Sun City Girls,
The Residents,
The Smoke,
John Lydon,
The Blues Magoos,
Nico,
Bob Dylan,
Audionom,
Pantytec,
Brand Nubian,
Sound Behaviour,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Fire Engines,
Susan Cadogan,
Barrington Levy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Infiniti,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Thompson Twins,
Neil Young,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.