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 New Zealand and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gang Starr to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DeepChord presents Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
These Immortal Souls,
DJ Style,
The Blues Magoos,
The Velvet Underground,
Lyres,
Smog,
Yaz,
Gregory Isaacs,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rapeman,
Marine Girls,
Arab on Radar,
Kaleidoscope,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Aural Exciters,
The Slits,
Andrew Hill,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Joe Smooth,
Maleditus Sound,
Yazoo,
Rites of Spring,
F. McDonald,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Khruangbin,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Desert Stars,
Jesper Dahlback,
Robert Hood,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Surgeon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pussy Galore,
Fat Boys,
Marmalade,
This Heat,
Jandek,
Intrusion,
Ultra Naté,
Chrome,
Ponytail,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nick Fraelich,
La Düsseldorf,
Cybotron,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fad Gadget,
Half Japanese,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jacques Brel,
Jeff Mills,
Godley & Creme,
Sandy B,
Fear,
Faraquet,
Gang Starr,
Laurel Aitken,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.