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 Cameroon and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Duran Duran to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Crime,
Fear,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Radiopuhelimet,
Danielle Patucci,
Judy Mowatt,
Severed Heads,
Mantronix,
Yaz,
Gabor Szabo,
Scratch Acid,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Metal Thangz,
Soft Cell,
New York Dolls,
Tommy Roe,
Eddi Front,
Roger Hodgson,
Swell Maps,
Matthew Bourne,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Mark Hollis,
The United States of America,
Faraquet,
Lyres,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Country Teasers,
Avey Tare,
Livin' Joy,
The Human League,
The J.B.'s,
Con Funk Shun,
Royal Trux,
James White and The Blacks,
Flipper,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Dirtbombs,
The Tremeloes,
Matthew Halsall,
Procol Harum,
Lungfish,
Dave Gahan,
8 Eyed Spy,
Desert Stars,
Dual Sessions,
Scrapy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Franke,
Scientists,
Subhumans,
Sly & The Family Stone,
DNA,
The Offenders,
Whodini,
The Raincoats,
Nas,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.