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 Pakistan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 EPMD to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Deepchord,
Royal Trux,
Nirvana,
The Move,
The Monochrome Set,
David Axelrod,
The Sound,
This Heat,
The Tremeloes,
Derrick Morgan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Japan,
Bad Manners,
Robert Hood,
Moebius,
The Fire Engines,
Shoche,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mad Mike,
Yellowson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jeff Mills,
Eric B and Rakim,
Faust,
Quando Quango,
Stiv Bators,
Joe Finger,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
James White and The Blacks,
The Dave Clark Five,
Can,
Adolescents,
OOIOO,
Crooked Eye,
Oblivians,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Derrick May,
Junior Murvin,
Desert Stars,
Patti Smith,
Roger Hodgson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Selecter,
The Walker Brothers,
The United States of America,
Man Eating Sloth,
Suburban Knight,
Alice Coltrane,
Oneida,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Aaron Thompson,
Theoretical Girls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dawn Penn,
The Buckinghams,
Faraquet,
Scott Walker,
LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J.
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.