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 Morocco and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 sitar 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 Simply Red to the grunge 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 The Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
KRS-One,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
MDC,
Livin' Joy,
Marc Almond,
The Red Krayola,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Danielle Patucci,
Dennis Brown,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Martian,
Jeru the Damaja,
Adolescents,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sex Pistols,
H. Thieme,
Jacques Brel,
Lalann,
The Golliwogs,
Rapeman,
The Dead C,
New York Dolls,
The Angels of Light,
Main Source,
Slick Rick,
Brick,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Alphaville,
Fad Gadget,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Smiths,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marmalade,
Lakeside,
Pole,
Unrelated Segments,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jerry's Kids,
Crime,
Symarip,
Con Funk Shun,
The Offenders,
Alton Ellis,
Bill Wells,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
This Heat,
Motorama,
Spandau Ballet,
Reuben Wilson,
Bill Near,
Davy DMX,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Aural Exciters,
Franke,
The Searchers,
The Gap Band,
Jeff Mills,
Radio Birdman,
Bad Manners,
Banda Bassotti,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.