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 Iceland and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lille.
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 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the crunk 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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Fuzztones,
Sällskapet,
Pantaleimon,
Eurythmics,
Metal Thangz,
Unrelated Segments,
Brand Nubian,
Letta Mbulu,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Man Parrish,
Reagan Youth,
Masters at Work,
Davy DMX,
Marshall Jefferson,
Barry Ungar,
Soul II Soul,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fifty Foot Hose,
OOIOO,
Qualms,
Joey Negro,
Soulsonic Force,
Youth Brigade,
Nik Kershaw,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ornette Coleman,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ten City,
The Zeros,
Maurizio,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Deepchord,
Susan Cadogan,
Nirvana,
Eyeless In Gaza,
One Last Wish,
Yusef Lateef,
Scientists,
Pulsallama,
Ronnie Foster,
K-Klass,
Ponytail,
Iggy Pop,
Matthew Halsall,
Organ,
Warsaw,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Fall,
John Coltrane,
Wally Richardson,
The Birthday Party,
Khruangbin,
The Detroit Cobras,
Alphaville,
Nick Fraelich,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
New Order,
Hashim,
Ralphi Rosario,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.