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 Swaziland and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 rhodes 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 Symarip to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Groovy Waters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Marvin Gaye,
Nils Olav,
John Cale,
Nas,
Moebius,
Lou Christie,
Joe Finger,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ultravox,
cv313,
X-101,
The New Christs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Warren Ellis,
Max Romeo,
UT,
Sex Pistols,
Chrome,
The Dead C,
E-Dancer,
Masters at Work,
Oblivians,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
June of 44,
Inner City,
The Dave Clark Five,
Vainqueur,
The Toasters,
The Victims,
Black Sheep,
Fela Kuti,
Trumans Water,
Rakim,
Groovy Waters,
Pylon,
The Cramps,
Cymande,
Brick,
Infiniti,
Malaria!,
Bauhaus,
Fugazi,
EPMD,
The Doors,
Ituana,
Harry Pussy,
Massinfluence,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Blancmange,
Eddi Front,
Symarip,
U.S. Maple,
The United States of America,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jacques Brel,
Prince Buster,
Pulsallama,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.