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 Angola and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 arpeggiator 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 Brand Nubian to the crunk 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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Guru Guru,
Swans,
Cameo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wasted Youth,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Hasil Adkins,
Brothers Johnson,
The Fuzztones,
Cymande,
Tropical Tobacco,
Nation of Ulysses,
Barry Ungar,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Litter,
Nirvana,
Icehouse,
Arthur Verocai,
Arab on Radar,
The Gladiators,
Fugazi,
Black Pus,
Derrick May,
Niagra,
John Foxx,
Warsaw,
Ludus,
D'Angelo,
Wolf Eyes,
FM Einheit,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Matthew Halsall,
Byron Stingily,
Stetsasonic,
K-Klass,
The Vogues,
La Düsseldorf,
New Order,
Steve Hackett,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Leonard Cohen,
Boz Scaggs,
Goldenarms,
The Toasters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Camberwell Now,
Kerri Chandler,
Bad Manners,
Absolute Body Control,
Ituana,
Derrick Morgan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Negative Approach,
Urselle,
Excepter,
Radiohead,
Neil Young,
The Stooges,
Bill Wells,
Erasure,
The Golliwogs,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.