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 Monaco and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Sixth Finger to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Soul II Soul,
Nik Kershaw,
Anthony Braxton,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Alison Limerick,
Yazoo,
The Mummies,
Skaos,
Bob Dylan,
The Index,
Archie Shepp,
The Smoke,
Magma,
Aaron Thompson,
Bill Near,
Gabor Szabo,
The Pretty Things,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Morten Harket,
Trumans Water,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Boz Scaggs,
Marvin Gaye,
Max Romeo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fear,
Ituana,
Unwound,
The Doors,
Roger Hodgson,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Swans,
Gerry Rafferty,
a-ha,
China Crisis,
Goldenarms,
Alphaville,
Ken Boothe,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Leaves,
Nico,
Radio Birdman,
Franke,
Chrome,
The Last Poets,
FM Einheit,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Simply Red,
The Dead C,
Terrestrial Tones,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Beau Brummels,
Cal Tjader,
Sight & Sound,
The Modern Lovers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Grauzone,
Stockholm Monsters,
Little Man,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.