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 Singapore and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Eve St. Jones to the techno 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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk 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 harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
The Saints,
Radio Birdman,
Avey Tare,
Royal Trux,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Flesh Eaters,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Pop Group,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Glenn Branca,
Organ,
Technova,
Susan Cadogan,
Talk Talk,
Stetsasonic,
cv313,
Subhumans,
Man Eating Sloth,
Reagan Youth,
The Cure,
Tomorrow,
Soft Cell,
Yusef Lateef,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Moody Blues,
Kool Moe Dee,
DJ Style,
Johnny Clarke,
Robert Wyatt,
Accadde A,
Boz Scaggs,
Man Parrish,
Trumans Water,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Buckinghams,
Kerri Chandler,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Last Poets,
Tubeway Army,
Television Personalities,
Suburban Knight,
Gang Starr,
Scott Walker,
Aaron Thompson,
Fugazi,
The Doors,
Moss Icon,
Visage,
Gang Green,
Bluetip,
Alison Limerick,
Monks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Morten Harket,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.