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 Iraq and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lagos.
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 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 Lou Christie to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Matthew Bourne,
Lou Reed,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pulsallama,
Bang On A Can,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sight & Sound,
The Cure,
Pierre Henry,
Marvin Gaye,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Infiniti,
Don Cherry,
Sixth Finger,
Scan 7,
Leonard Cohen,
Eden Ahbez,
Angry Samoans,
Goldenarms,
Roxy Music,
Mad Mike,
Parry Music,
The Martian,
Public Enemy,
Scrapy,
Cymande,
Japan,
Rites of Spring,
Blake Baxter,
Bill Near,
Audionom,
Cameo,
AZ,
Erasure,
Scott Walker,
Minnie Riperton,
The Moody Blues,
Gabor Szabo,
Dennis Brown,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bush Tetras,
Gang Starr,
This Heat,
Brothers Johnson,
Kurtis Blow,
Das Ding,
Nico,
Deakin,
Jeru the Damaja,
Von Mondo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Mummies,
Vainqueur,
Bluetip,
A Flock of Seagulls,
UT,
X-101,
The Durutti Column,
The Wake,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.