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 Zambia and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Walker Brothers to the rock 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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Barbara Tucker,
Roxy Music,
Wolf Eyes,
Iggy Pop,
The Moody Blues,
Khruangbin,
Lou Christie,
Gastr Del Sol,
Neil Young,
Cybotron,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
F. McDonald,
Sarah Menescal,
Fluxion,
Barrington Levy,
Funkadelic,
The Barracudas,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Black Pus,
Godley & Creme,
Marvin Gaye,
Moebius,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Blackbyrds,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rosa Yemen,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Siglo XX,
Bauhaus,
Skaos,
Warsaw,
Infiniti,
John Holt,
Porter Ricks,
David McCallum,
Skarface,
Gang of Four,
Pulsallama,
Scientists,
Hoover,
Jeff Lynne,
Byron Stingily,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Adolescents,
Lucky Dragons,
The Tremeloes,
Y Pants,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kerri Chandler,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Crispian St. Peters,
Morten Harket,
Half Japanese,
Excepter,
Man Eating Sloth,
World's Most,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.