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 Yemen and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 harpsichord 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 Masters at Work to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
kango's stein massive,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Little Man,
Marc Almond,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Selecter,
Blake Baxter,
One Last Wish,
Heaven 17,
The Grass Roots,
Sexual Harrassment,
Roxy Music,
Arab on Radar,
Vainqueur,
the Slits,
X-Ray Spex,
Terry Callier,
Blancmange,
Grauzone,
Shuggie Otis,
Amazonics,
Porter Ricks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Standells,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Todd Terry,
Lightning Bolt,
Blossom Toes,
the Association,
The Red Krayola,
Althea and Donna,
Swell Maps,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
F. McDonald,
Andrew Hill,
Pet Shop Boys,
Brand Nubian,
Ralphi Rosario,
Marshall Jefferson,
Charles Mingus,
Marmalade,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Amon Düül,
Cheater Slicks,
Funky Four + One,
Ronan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Joe Smooth,
Boogie Down Productions,
EPMD,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Massinfluence,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Remains,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ossler,
Con Funk Shun,
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.