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 Barbados and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Salvador.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the 808 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 Soft Machine to the rock 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 Grandmaster Flash. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Electric Prunes,
Little Man,
the Swans,
The Searchers,
Bang On A Can,
The Electric Prunes,
Symarip,
The Move,
PIL,
Ossler,
The Invisible,
Ornette Coleman,
La Düsseldorf,
In Retrospect,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gichy Dan,
The Remains,
Banda Bassotti,
Deakin,
8 Eyed Spy,
Q and Not U,
Peter and Kerry,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Reuben Wilson,
Sandy B,
Duran Duran,
Pharoah Sanders,
Das Ding,
Y Pants,
Skarface,
H. Thieme,
Eddi Front,
Ice-T,
The Pop Group,
Todd Terry,
Pulsallama,
Gang Starr,
The Dave Clark Five,
Max Romeo,
The Fortunes,
The Pretty Things,
Anakelly,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Quando Quango,
Wasted Youth,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Public Image Ltd.,
Animal Collective,
Subhumans,
Easy Going,
Idris Muhammad,
Al Stewart,
Guru Guru,
The Dirtbombs,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Boredoms,
Sunsets and Hearts,
New Age Steppers,
the Bar-Kays,
Radiohead,
Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul.
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.