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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 organ 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Bang On A Can,
the Swans,
Simply Red,
Minutemen,
Peter & Gordon,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Todd Terry,
Inner City,
World's Most,
The Remains,
Hoover,
The Beau Brummels,
Tommy Roe,
Zapp,
Monks,
U.S. Maple,
Echospace,
Bauhaus,
The J.B.'s,
Young Marble Giants,
The Names,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cecil Taylor,
Cybotron,
The Fortunes,
The Skatalites,
New Order,
UT,
The Monochrome Set,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Byron Stingily,
Soft Machine,
Slave,
Suburban Knight,
Bobby Womack,
The Litter,
Smog,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Duran Duran,
Thompson Twins,
Skarface,
Sugar Minott,
The Monks,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Sheep,
Zero Boys,
The Slits,
The Blackbyrds,
The Wake,
Q65,
Bronski Beat,
These Immortal Souls,
Donald Byrd,
Max Romeo,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Al Stewart,
Robert Hood,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Boz Scaggs,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.