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 Uzbekistan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sister Nancy 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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Lower 48,
Radio Birdman,
The Fuzztones,
Eurythmics,
Kurtis Blow,
Trumans Water,
Make Up,
Stetsasonic,
Johnny Clarke,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fugazi,
ABC,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bobby Sherman,
James White and The Blacks,
Lyres,
The Fortunes,
Eden Ahbez,
The Gladiators,
Graham Central Station,
Urselle,
Sugar Minott,
Thompson Twins,
Livin' Joy,
Groovy Waters,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sister Nancy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Soft Machine,
Anakelly,
Section 25,
Subhumans,
Suburban Knight,
Flamin' Groovies,
Stiv Bators,
Chrome,
Q65,
Motorama,
New Age Steppers,
the Soft Cell,
Camouflage,
The Victims,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ohio Players,
Alison Limerick,
the Bar-Kays,
Parry Music,
Tommy Roe,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Terry Callier,
Jeff Lynne,
Infiniti,
Letta Mbulu,
Jawbox,
The Move,
Sparks,
Sällskapet,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.