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 Libya and from Hong Kong.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the crunk 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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wire 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Loose Ends,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Index,
Agitation Free,
Reuben Wilson,
U.S. Maple,
Brothers Johnson,
Hot Snakes,
a-ha,
Brass Construction,
John Coltrane,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Harmonia,
The Trojans,
Sam Rivers,
The Last Poets,
David Bowie,
MC5,
the Slits,
Sarah Menescal,
Arab on Radar,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Morten Harket,
Eric B and Rakim,
Amon Düül,
Todd Rundgren,
Ornette Coleman,
Radiopuhelimet,
Magma,
Carl Craig,
Barbara Tucker,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Walker Brothers,
Sound Behaviour,
X-101,
Isaac Hayes,
Stiv Bators,
X-Ray Spex,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Divine Comedy,
David Axelrod,
Alice Coltrane,
Prince Buster,
Youth Brigade,
Con Funk Shun,
The Real Kids,
The American Breed,
Howard Jones,
Wire,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dual Sessions,
the Normal,
Japan,
Dawn Penn,
The Gun Club,
The Grass Roots,
Electric Prunes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Andrew Hill,
Average White Band,
The Associates, The Associates, The Associates, The Associates.
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.