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 Kazakhstan and from Bremen.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Gabor Szabo,
Procol Harum,
Sex Pistols,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Real Kids,
Visage,
Chris & Cosey,
The J.B.'s,
Terry Callier,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Seeds,
Marvin Gaye,
Scion,
Black Bananas,
Yusef Lateef,
Henry Cow,
Barclay James Harvest,
Janne Schatter,
Pylon,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Unwound,
Newcleus,
Kenny Larkin,
The Beau Brummels,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wolf Eyes,
Eve St. Jones,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marine Girls,
Sixth Finger,
Eddi Front,
Frankie Knuckles,
Soul II Soul,
Swans,
Aural Exciters,
Mission of Burma,
The Sonics,
Rufus Thomas,
Depeche Mode,
The Slits,
John Coltrane,
John Foxx,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
June of 44,
Junior Murvin,
Gong,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sound Behaviour,
Goldenarms,
Infiniti,
The Black Dice,
The Skatalites,
Main Source,
World's Most,
Hardrive,
Funkadelic,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.