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 Gabon and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Barclay James Harvest to the dance 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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
The Saints,
Khruangbin,
Alice Coltrane,
the Germs,
David Axelrod,
The Remains,
China Crisis,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tim Buckley,
Henry Cow,
Skaos,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Pretty Things,
Camberwell Now,
The Slackers,
the Association,
Cluster,
Qualms,
The Slits,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Aswad,
Parry Music,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sixth Finger,
Electric Prunes,
Toni Rubio,
Maleditus Sound,
Intrusion,
The Seeds,
The Toasters,
Tears for Fears,
The Detroit Cobras,
Roy Ayers,
Junior Murvin,
The Fuzztones,
Vladislav Delay,
Hoover,
Cecil Taylor,
Fela Kuti,
Los Fastidios,
The Angels of Light,
Godley & Creme,
Lalann,
Skarface,
Joyce Sims,
Howard Jones,
Dennis Brown,
Graham Central Station,
The Knickerbockers,
The Star Department,
The Real Kids,
Neu!,
Kaleidoscope,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Amon Düül,
Deakin,
Sandy B,
Siglo XX,
Mars,
Duran Duran,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Black Dice,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.