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 El Salvador and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Soft Cell to the disco 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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anakelly 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
The Mojo Men,
Outsiders,
The Human League,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Moby Grape,
Niagra,
Banda Bassotti,
Barbara Tucker,
Albert Ayler,
the Fania All-Stars,
Soul Sonic Force,
Aswad,
Marine Girls,
The Angels of Light,
Fatback Band,
Graham Central Station,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Roger Hodgson,
Unrelated Segments,
Connie Case,
Amon Düül,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Con Funk Shun,
Sam Rivers,
The Misunderstood,
Sunsets and Hearts,
48th St. Collective,
Zero Boys,
Hardrive,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Pop Group,
Grey Daturas,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Black Moon,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Yellowson,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
X-101,
The Sound,
Danielle Patucci,
Brothers Johnson,
H. Thieme,
Section 25,
Tubeway Army,
Kaleidoscope,
Gong,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
James White and The Blacks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Young Marble Giants,
The Cowsills,
A Certain Ratio,
Robert Hood,
Amazonics,
Fat Boys,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Darondo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Radiohead,
Aloha Tigers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.