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 Cape Verde and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 theremin 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 Crispian St. Peters to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donny Hathaway 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?
Patti Smith,
Freddie Wadling,
The Cure,
James White and The Blacks,
The Electric Prunes,
Hoover,
Crooked Eye,
Steve Hackett,
Soulsonic Force,
The Sisters of Mercy,
U.S. Maple,
Bush Tetras,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Trojans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fugazi,
DJ Sneak,
The Index,
These Immortal Souls,
The Standells,
Wolf Eyes,
Charles Mingus,
Boredoms,
June of 44,
Cybotron,
Joy Division,
Lindisfarne,
Marvin Gaye,
Simply Red,
The Residents,
Funkadelic,
Panda Bear,
Ludus,
Silicon Teens,
Ituana,
Arthur Verocai,
Sixth Finger,
K-Klass,
The New Christs,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ornette Coleman,
Jacques Brel,
Hardrive,
Piero Umiliani,
ABC,
Mandrill,
Donny Hathaway,
Girls At Our Best!,
Altered Images,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lower 48,
Y Pants,
FM Einheit,
Bad Manners,
Infiniti,
Pole,
Barclay James Harvest,
Joey Negro,
Sam Rivers,
Morten Harket,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Stockholm Monsters,
Byron Stingily,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.