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 Angola and from Bremen.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Jeru the Damaja to the jazz 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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Prince Buster,
Sight & Sound,
Cheater Slicks,
Joy Division,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Suicide,
Monolake,
Gang of Four,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Victims,
AZ,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gong,
Kurtis Blow,
Quadrant,
Eddi Front,
The Vogues,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Skarface,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Soft Cell,
Minnie Riperton,
Radio Birdman,
The Neon Judgement,
Camberwell Now,
Unwound,
Thompson Twins,
The Real Kids,
The Blackbyrds,
the Bar-Kays,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Arab on Radar,
Television,
Stetsasonic,
The Gap Band,
Joe Smooth,
The United States of America,
Masters at Work,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Modern Lovers,
Metal Thangz,
Depeche Mode,
Barrington Levy,
Jeff Mills,
Big Daddy Kane,
These Immortal Souls,
Scrapy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Evens,
The Fugs,
Trumans Water,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
X-Ray Spex,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Busters,
Josef K,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kaleidoscope,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Excepter,
Altered Images,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.