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 Afghanistan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Animal Collective to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Inner City,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Birthday Party,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Stetsasonic,
Mo-Dettes,
The Searchers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Doors,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Crooked Eye,
Dorothy Ashby,
Soul II Soul,
Johnny Osbourne,
The J.B.'s,
Spandau Ballet,
Cameo,
Talk Talk,
Buzzcocks,
Amon Düül II,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Icehouse,
Man Parrish,
The United States of America,
Black Bananas,
Agent Orange,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Animal Collective,
Thompson Twins,
Albert Ayler,
Ken Boothe,
Make Up,
Anakelly,
The Real Kids,
ABC,
John Lydon,
Gang of Four,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Judy Mowatt,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Cure,
Bill Wells,
Blancmange,
Kayak,
The Smoke,
Q and Not U,
Bobby Byrd,
Robert Wyatt,
The Index,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Crash Course in Science,
X-Ray Spex,
Funky Four + One,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.