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 Guatemala and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 spring reverb 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 The Divine Comedy to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Trumans Water,
Sex Pistols,
Skaos,
Reagan Youth,
The Dirtbombs,
Marc Almond,
cv313,
DJ Sneak,
Malaria!,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Slits,
Flash Fearless,
Lyres,
Davy DMX,
Model 500,
Robert Hood,
Adolescents,
Fatback Band,
Vainqueur,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Scott Walker,
Reuben Wilson,
Make Up,
Sarah Menescal,
AZ,
H. Thieme,
Gichy Dan,
Von Mondo,
Slave,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jacob Miller,
Kenny Larkin,
48th St. Collective,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Standells,
Faust,
Derrick May,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Knickerbockers,
Ice-T,
Con Funk Shun,
Stereo Dub,
Young Marble Giants,
Nik Kershaw,
The Smoke,
Dual Sessions,
Cal Tjader,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Au Pairs,
Moebius,
Jimmy McGriff,
Monks,
Althea and Donna,
Sister Nancy,
Piero Umiliani,
the Bar-Kays,
Sandy B,
Theoretical Girls,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.