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 Qatar and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Moody Blues to the funk 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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan 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 an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Ten City,
Eric Copeland,
Man Parrish,
Vladislav Delay,
Nik Kershaw,
Second Layer,
Dave Gahan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Monolake,
Terry Callier,
Yusef Lateef,
The Gories,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Throbbing Gristle,
Main Source,
Todd Rundgren,
Johnny Osbourne,
T. Rex,
Kaleidoscope,
Gang Green,
Roy Ayers,
Toni Rubio,
June of 44,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Mummies,
Zapp,
Bad Manners,
Lyres,
Radiohead,
Ice-T,
The Sound,
Chrome,
Delta 5,
Section 25,
Spandau Ballet,
These Immortal Souls,
John Foxx,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Count Five,
Angry Samoans,
Sparks,
The Martian,
Lucky Dragons,
Scott Walker,
Erykah Badu,
Don Cherry,
Bobby Byrd,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Normal,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Barbara Tucker,
Derrick Morgan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Groovy Waters,
Goldenarms,
The Zeros,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Interpol,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.