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 Mozambique and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Reuben Wilson to the grunge 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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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 Knickerbockers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eddi Front,
Kerri Chandler,
Throbbing Gristle,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Reagan Youth,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Divine Comedy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kerrie Biddell,
Metal Thangz,
Flipper,
Howard Jones,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Litter,
Robert Hood,
Gil Scott Heron,
Model 500,
Hashim,
The Searchers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
U.S. Maple,
Letta Mbulu,
Wire,
Lungfish,
The Dead C,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Index,
Angry Samoans,
Boredoms,
Livin' Joy,
Cluster,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Infiniti,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Scan 7,
The Misunderstood,
Pet Shop Boys,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Monochrome Set,
Rekid,
The Raincoats,
Nas,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Delta 5,
Gang of Four,
The American Breed,
Buzzcocks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
New York Dolls,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Graham Central Station,
Matthew Bourne,
Curtis Mayfield,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Siglo XX,
Aloha Tigers,
K-Klass,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.