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 Germany and from Cairo.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the snare 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 Andrew Hill to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
Second Layer,
The Count Five,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jerry's Kids,
Cecil Taylor,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ten City,
Vladislav Delay,
Swans,
The Dirtbombs,
Rekid,
Todd Rundgren,
Quantec,
Leonard Cohen,
The Neon Judgement,
The Sonics,
The Five Americans,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Duran Duran,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Joe Smooth,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gerry Rafferty,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Symarip,
Bobbi Humphrey,
New Age Steppers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Motions,
Pussy Galore,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Spoonie Gee,
Easy Going,
The Vogues,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Fat Boys,
The Grass Roots,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Pretty Things,
Ossler,
Reagan Youth,
cv313,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Brass Construction,
John Cale,
Lyres,
Monolake,
Schoolly D,
The Angels of Light,
X-Ray Spex,
Rosa Yemen,
The Wake,
The Doors,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eric B and Rakim,
The J.B.'s,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.