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 Kyrgyzstan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 These Immortal Souls to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Soulsonic Force,
Bill Wells,
Aural Exciters,
Piero Umiliani,
Pantytec,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jacques Brel,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Chris & Cosey,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Cameo,
Aswad,
Marshall Jefferson,
Michelle Simonal,
The Black Dice,
Harry Pussy,
Amon Düül II,
Trumans Water,
Roy Ayers,
The Neon Judgement,
Ituana,
Jerry's Kids,
Anakelly,
Deakin,
Danielle Patucci,
Talk Talk,
Davy DMX,
Fatback Band,
Urselle,
New Age Steppers,
The Music Machine,
The Motions,
Outsiders,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Standells,
Stetsasonic,
Cecil Taylor,
Duran Duran,
Liliput,
Fela Kuti,
Black Flag,
Roger Hodgson,
CMW,
8 Eyed Spy,
Loose Ends,
The Beau Brummels,
The Offenders,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Cowsills,
Rakim,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Red Krayola,
Intrusion,
Wire,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mark Hollis,
Skaos,
The Dirtbombs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.