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 Madagascar and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Country Teasers 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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Connie Case,
Sight & Sound,
Gichy Dan,
Stetsasonic,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Masters at Work,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Happenings,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tubeway Army,
Scrapy,
Average White Band,
H. Thieme,
Camberwell Now,
the Slits,
Deadbeat,
Piero Umiliani,
Mark Hollis,
Don Cherry,
The Last Poets,
Gong,
Make Up,
Aswad,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Roger Hodgson,
Yusef Lateef,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Terrestrial Tones,
Infiniti,
Eric B and Rakim,
Crash Course in Science,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
A Certain Ratio,
Brothers Johnson,
Massinfluence,
Donald Byrd,
Second Layer,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Vladislav Delay,
Scientists,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Stereo Dub,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Johnny Osbourne,
Black Moon,
The Barracudas,
Liliput,
The Modern Lovers,
Public Image Ltd.,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ludus,
The Durutti Column,
Jawbox,
Maleditus Sound,
Delon & Dalcan,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.