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 Tanzania and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 linndrum 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Deepchord. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harmonia 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
Duran Duran,
Second Layer,
ABBA,
Frankie Knuckles,
Byron Stingily,
Tommy Roe,
The Gladiators,
R.M.O.,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Fuzztones,
The Kinks,
The Barracudas,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Thee Headcoats,
Deepchord,
Bill Near,
Lou Christie,
48th St. Collective,
The Beau Brummels,
Outsiders,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bauhaus,
Echospace,
Trumans Water,
Soft Machine,
Swell Maps,
Motorama,
Sugar Minott,
The J.B.'s,
Zero Boys,
Aural Exciters,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Urselle,
Al Stewart,
Agitation Free,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ossler,
The Blackbyrds,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Organ,
Funky Four + One,
Smog,
Mad Mike,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Black Flag,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Durutti Column,
the Human League,
Bad Manners,
Tears for Fears,
Hardrive,
Excepter,
The Detroit Cobras,
Albert Ayler,
Rod Modell,
Janne Schatter,
Gregory Isaacs,
Wings,
Tubeway Army,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.