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 United States and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Faraquet to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
UT,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
New Age Steppers,
Curtis Mayfield,
World's Most,
Angry Samoans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jeru the Damaja,
The J.B.'s,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Leaves,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Harry Pussy,
the Soft Cell,
Alice Coltrane,
Wasted Youth,
The Last Poets,
Slave,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bizarre Inc.,
Deadbeat,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Popol Vuh,
Brothers Johnson,
Japan,
Harmonia,
John Coltrane,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bluetip,
Chris & Cosey,
Black Sheep,
Procol Harum,
Lou Reed,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
B.T. Express,
the Sonics,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Bar-Kays,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Boredoms,
Rhythm & Sound,
Supertramp,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Funky Four + One,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Subhumans,
the Human League,
Hot Snakes,
The Stooges,
Buzzcocks,
Morten Harket,
Glambeats Corp.,
Mo-Dettes,
The Durutti Column,
Metal Thangz,
Motorama,
Dawn Penn,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.