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 Ethiopia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Taipei.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Boz Scaggs to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
David Bowie,
In Retrospect,
The American Breed,
Wasted Youth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Quadrant,
Newcleus,
Tres Demented,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ornette Coleman,
Kool Moe Dee,
Drive Like Jehu,
Charles Mingus,
The Index,
Clear Light,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Inner City,
Gang Gang Dance,
D'Angelo,
Nas,
the Soft Cell,
Lightning Bolt,
Metal Thangz,
Albert Ayler,
Barclay James Harvest,
Al Stewart,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Associates,
The Moleskins,
Byron Stingily,
Dual Sessions,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Das Ding,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Curtis Mayfield,
Flamin' Groovies,
Zero Boys,
Mr. Review,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Suicide,
Cheater Slicks,
Blossom Toes,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Sound,
The Electric Prunes,
The Monks,
Depeche Mode,
Bauhaus,
Maurizio,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
June Days,
The Evens,
Susan Cadogan,
Severed Heads,
Jimmy McGriff,
Shuggie Otis,
The Beau Brummels,
OOIOO,
Joe Smooth,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.