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 Namibia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 clarinet 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 Maurizio to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
The Names,
Q65,
Bush Tetras,
Marc Almond,
Kurtis Blow,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tom Boy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Excepter,
Sonic Youth,
Shuggie Otis,
The J.B.'s,
Spandau Ballet,
the Bar-Kays,
Blake Baxter,
L. Decosne,
The Fugs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Tears for Fears,
Babytalk,
Soft Machine,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lalo Schifrin,
Brick,
Motorama,
Peter & Gordon,
Scion,
Kevin Saunderson,
X-101,
Quantec,
Matthew Halsall,
China Crisis,
Royal Trux,
Model 500,
Godley & Creme,
DNA,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Patti Smith,
The Blues Magoos,
Bobby Womack,
Man Parrish,
Bill Wells,
The Fortunes,
Funky Four + One,
The Buckinghams,
New Age Steppers,
Crooked Eye,
the Association,
Skriet,
OOIOO,
The Velvet Underground,
Cal Tjader,
Rod Modell,
Aswad,
Depeche Mode,
The Neon Judgement,
Make Up,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.