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 Guinea and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 rhodes 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 B.T. Express to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Cluster,
Alphaville,
John Lydon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eden Ahbez,
Cal Tjader,
Bizarre Inc.,
Slave,
The Dirtbombs,
Warren Ellis,
Yusef Lateef,
Grauzone,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Stetsasonic,
Pussy Galore,
Skaos,
The Toasters,
Scrapy,
Reuben Wilson,
The Fortunes,
Gang Starr,
The Birthday Party,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Soft Cell,
Curtis Mayfield,
Arthur Verocai,
Josef K,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gerry Rafferty,
Silicon Teens,
Vladislav Delay,
Half Japanese,
Moby Grape,
Anakelly,
The Mojo Men,
the Human League,
The Smoke,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Techniques,
The Stooges,
Minnie Riperton,
ABC,
Mark Hollis,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Icehouse,
CMW,
Quantec,
The Count Five,
Wire,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
T.S.O.L.,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Barbara Tucker,
Harpers Bizarre,
LL Cool J,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Colin Newman,
Morten Harket,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.