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 Uganda and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro 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 Ralphi Rosario to the funk 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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
PIL,
Con Funk Shun,
DJ Sneak,
Hashim,
Pet Shop Boys,
F. McDonald,
Schoolly D,
Brass Construction,
Prince Buster,
Hoover,
Rufus Thomas,
David McCallum,
Porter Ricks,
Fluxion,
Fela Kuti,
Reuben Wilson,
Animal Collective,
Loose Ends,
Wings,
Mars,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Tremeloes,
Soft Machine,
Thee Headcoats,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Fall,
Barbara Tucker,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Joy Division,
Outsiders,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Modern Lovers,
Brick,
Y Pants,
Khruangbin,
Byron Stingily,
Sparks,
The Gap Band,
The Associates,
Maleditus Sound,
The Zeros,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Darondo,
Moss Icon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kayak,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Glenn Branca,
Icehouse,
Pagans,
Archie Shepp,
The Sonics,
The Evens,
Josef K,
Avey Tare,
Zapp,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.