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 Sri Lanka and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 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 Mission of Burma to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
B.T. Express,
Ken Boothe,
The Cowsills,
The Flesh Eaters,
Duran Duran,
kango's stein massive,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Standells,
Andrew Hill,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
the Human League,
Hashim,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fugazi,
Harry Pussy,
Buzzcocks,
Urselle,
Amon Düül II,
Gang Green,
Skriet,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Aural Exciters,
Schoolly D,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Funky Four + One,
The Knickerbockers,
The Invisible,
Underground Resistance,
The Skatalites,
Stereo Dub,
Blossom Toes,
Bizarre Inc.,
Don Cherry,
Anthony Braxton,
James White and The Blacks,
Isaac Hayes,
Scott Walker,
Lebanon Hanover,
Minutemen,
Newcleus,
Cal Tjader,
Judy Mowatt,
Whodini,
Scrapy,
Pantaleimon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Litter,
Juan Atkins,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
DJ Style,
Magma,
In Retrospect,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
A Certain Ratio,
Mo-Dettes,
Television,
Brothers Johnson,
Procol Harum,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
ABBA,
Chrome,
Audionom,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.