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 Mozambique and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Moody Blues to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marc Almond,
Fad Gadget,
Idris Muhammad,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Desert Stars,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Basic Channel,
The Zeros,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eddi Front,
Black Sheep,
The Modern Lovers,
Funky Four + One,
Minnie Riperton,
Thompson Twins,
Los Fastidios,
Agitation Free,
The Residents,
Con Funk Shun,
Kool Moe Dee,
Spoonie Gee,
Magazine,
Supertramp,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Matthew Halsall,
Oneida,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Deepchord,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Joe Finger,
Todd Terry,
The Raincoats,
The Young Rascals,
Erasure,
Reuben Wilson,
Robert Hood,
Eric Dolphy,
The Saints,
The Victims,
Bizarre Inc.,
A Certain Ratio,
Goldenarms,
the Germs,
New Order,
Bobby Womack,
Jeff Mills,
Massinfluence,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dorothy Ashby,
CMW,
Television,
Barclay James Harvest,
D'Angelo,
Blake Baxter,
The Offenders,
The American Breed,
Simply Red,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gang Starr,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.