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 Botswana and from Calgary.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Khruangbin to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Brothers Johnson,
The Leaves,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Angels of Light,
a-ha,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Black Pus,
Sugar Minott,
T. Rex,
The Searchers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bush Tetras,
Trumans Water,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Stiv Bators,
Oblivians,
Little Man,
Fat Boys,
Michelle Simonal,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Red Krayola,
Desert Stars,
The Modern Lovers,
Marc Almond,
Delon & Dalcan,
Piero Umiliani,
Can,
Matthew Halsall,
Nico,
Porter Ricks,
F. McDonald,
Gerry Rafferty,
Motorama,
Urselle,
Pagans,
Kas Product,
Byron Stingily,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Boredoms,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gang Green,
A Certain Ratio,
Mandrill,
Ultra Naté,
Don Cherry,
Duran Duran,
Barbara Tucker,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Music Machine,
Jeff Mills,
Lucky Dragons,
Jacob Miller,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Fire Engines,
Tom Boy,
New Order,
Japan,
Warsaw,
the Fania All-Stars,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.