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 Ghana and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Erykah Badu 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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alphaville record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
The Misunderstood,
Boz Scaggs,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bronski Beat,
Soul II Soul,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ituana,
Sixth Finger,
DNA,
Boogie Down Productions,
Arcadia,
Flash Fearless,
The Residents,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Donny Hathaway,
Piero Umiliani,
Marvin Gaye,
Masters at Work,
Ossler,
Metal Thangz,
Darondo,
Absolute Body Control,
Fatback Band,
Soft Machine,
Tropical Tobacco,
Slave,
Soul Sonic Force,
Clear Light,
Simply Red,
John Coltrane,
Yazoo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Monks,
Warsaw,
Steve Hackett,
Intrusion,
Adolescents,
Index,
Heaven 17,
The Names,
Danielle Patucci,
Freddie Wadling,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Slits,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Swans,
Black Bananas,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Y Pants,
Skarface,
Matthew Bourne,
Trumans Water,
Brothers Johnson,
Colin Newman,
Can,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.