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 Luxembourg and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Underground Resistance to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kenny Larkin,
The Last Poets,
Junior Murvin,
Wire,
Juan Atkins,
Loose Ends,
Eve St. Jones,
The Red Krayola,
The Young Rascals,
The Cowsills,
Al Stewart,
Michelle Simonal,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Robert Wyatt,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Joey Negro,
kango's stein massive,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Standells,
The American Breed,
Oblivians,
Soft Cell,
Andrew Hill,
Camberwell Now,
One Last Wish,
Scrapy,
Neil Young,
Lalann,
Jacob Miller,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Matthew Bourne,
Vainqueur,
The Blues Magoos,
Outsiders,
Depeche Mode,
Max Romeo,
Delta 5,
Jeff Mills,
Main Source,
Lou Christie,
Q and Not U,
Mandrill,
Young Marble Giants,
Gabor Szabo,
Todd Terry,
Arcadia,
Gong,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gang Green,
Gang Gang Dance,
Curtis Mayfield,
Deakin,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rotary Connection,
Bang On A Can,
Joe Finger,
DJ Style,
The Leaves,
Banda Bassotti,
Q65,
Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX.
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.