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 Namibia and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the dance 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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
B.T. Express,
Zapp,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Colin Newman,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lower 48,
Black Pus,
Sandy B,
The Mojo Men,
Slave,
Fatback Band,
Motorama,
Amon Düül II,
Make Up,
Yazoo,
Subhumans,
Letta Mbulu,
Warsaw,
Kerri Chandler,
Stockholm Monsters,
Man Parrish,
Carl Craig,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Young Rascals,
Icehouse,
Franke,
Mission of Burma,
Rhythm & Sound,
X-102,
The Blackbyrds,
Blossom Toes,
Alison Limerick,
Theoretical Girls,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Davy DMX,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
H. Thieme,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Yellowson,
The Happenings,
Harry Pussy,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Alarm Clocks,
Black Sheep,
the Sonics,
Crime,
Cymande,
John Foxx,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Banda Bassotti,
Boredoms,
The Fuzztones,
L. Decosne,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Susan Cadogan,
DJ Sneak,
Laurel Aitken,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.