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 Slovakia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the electroclash 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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Whodini,
Von Mondo,
Stiv Bators,
Rakim,
Robert Hood,
Monolake,
Prince Buster,
The Residents,
Robert Wyatt,
Saccharine Trust,
Severed Heads,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Man Parrish,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sexual Harrassment,
Trumans Water,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mantronix,
Pantaleimon,
The Music Machine,
Oblivians,
Das Ding,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wasted Youth,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Bar-Kays,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sun Ra,
The Offenders,
The Trojans,
PIL,
Traffic Nightmare,
China Crisis,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Remains,
Nils Olav,
the Fania All-Stars,
Infiniti,
Lightning Bolt,
Banda Bassotti,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Blackbyrds,
Franke,
Harmonia,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sly & The Family Stone,
K-Klass,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Cowsills,
ABBA,
Alphaville,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Moody Blues,
Gil Scott Heron,
Freddie Wadling,
Siglo XX,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Thompson Twins,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Connie Case,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.