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 Congo and from Tehran.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Pulsallama to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Delta 5,
The Trojans,
The Grass Roots,
Erasure,
Lou Reed,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Marcia Griffiths,
Marmalade,
Monolake,
The Invisible,
Matthew Bourne,
Ponytail,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pharoah Sanders,
Throbbing Gristle,
Spoonie Gee,
Suburban Knight,
the Sonics,
The Dave Clark Five,
Technova,
The Gories,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Con Funk Shun,
Bob Dylan,
Nick Fraelich,
kango's stein massive,
B.T. Express,
Cluster,
Heaven 17,
The United States of America,
Youth Brigade,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Avey Tare,
The Red Krayola,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Knickerbockers,
Goldenarms,
Terry Callier,
Judy Mowatt,
Popol Vuh,
Accadde A,
Blake Baxter,
The Motions,
Nation of Ulysses,
James White and The Blacks,
Camberwell Now,
Sun City Girls,
Sex Pistols,
Smog,
Shoche,
Gil Scott Heron,
Oblivians,
Charles Mingus,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.