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 Macedonia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sixth Finger to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Soul II Soul tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sunsets and Hearts,
Heaven 17,
Von Mondo,
Rod Modell,
The Remains,
Jerry Gold Smith,
LL Cool J,
Gregory Isaacs,
These Immortal Souls,
The Moleskins,
The Slits,
Sly & The Family Stone,
ABC,
Brothers Johnson,
David Axelrod,
Wire,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eve St. Jones,
Matthew Bourne,
Average White Band,
The Mojo Men,
Yaz,
Funky Four + One,
The Zeros,
New York Dolls,
New Age Steppers,
Essential Logic,
The United States of America,
Shuggie Otis,
Procol Harum,
Joey Negro,
Lucky Dragons,
Audionom,
The Litter,
Pierre Henry,
Tears for Fears,
Joe Finger,
Jacob Miller,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Judy Mowatt,
China Crisis,
Roy Ayers,
Mantronix,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Alarm Clocks,
Vainqueur,
Simply Red,
Bluetip,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lee Hazlewood,
Japan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Delon & Dalcan,
K-Klass,
Aural Exciters,
Bob Dylan,
Q and Not U,
Surgeon,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kurtis Blow,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.