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 Malaysia and from Calgary.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the snare 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 Tropical Tobacco to the crunk 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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Minny Pops,
Rosa Yemen,
The Slackers,
Bush Tetras,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Magma,
Scott Walker,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jeff Mills,
The Dirtbombs,
Grauzone,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Make Up,
48th St. Collective,
The Mojo Men,
Brothers Johnson,
Sound Behaviour,
Tears for Fears,
Royal Trux,
Jeff Lynne,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Gun Club,
Basic Channel,
The Doors,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Joe Finger,
Amon Düül,
Fear,
David Axelrod,
The Pretty Things,
Spoonie Gee,
Youth Brigade,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Magazine,
Tubeway Army,
Faraquet,
MC5,
Barrington Levy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ultimate Spinach,
Funky Four + One,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tres Demented,
Ultra Naté,
Funkadelic,
Bluetip,
The Count Five,
Ronan,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cheater Slicks,
Harry Pussy,
Susan Cadogan,
Harmonia,
Ken Boothe,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.