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 Tuvalu and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 mellotron 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 Joyce Sims to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nico record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
Max Romeo,
Gichy Dan,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ten City,
Freddie Wadling,
Prince Buster,
Roxy Music,
Thompson Twins,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Fania All-Stars,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bauhaus,
Johnny Clarke,
Schoolly D,
Erykah Badu,
Jimmy McGriff,
Altered Images,
Sparks,
Fear,
L. Decosne,
Barry Ungar,
Michelle Simonal,
The Move,
Liliput,
Y Pants,
The Monks,
ABC,
The Seeds,
Ice-T,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Last Poets,
Fatback Band,
Alison Limerick,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jeru the Damaja,
John Coltrane,
Sixth Finger,
Traffic Nightmare,
Man Parrish,
Surgeon,
Moby Grape,
Tres Demented,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Throbbing Gristle,
Blake Baxter,
The Vogues,
New York Dolls,
Grey Daturas,
Deakin,
Slick Rick,
Sexual Harrassment,
Technova,
Suburban Knight,
Robert Wyatt,
Silicon Teens,
The Wake,
Rapeman,
Colin Newman,
Procol Harum,
LL Cool J,
Eric Copeland,
Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX.
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.