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 Chile and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord 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 Donald Byrd to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
The Young Rascals,
Henry Cow,
Index,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bluetip,
Cameo,
Babytalk,
Idris Muhammad,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Warren Ellis,
Unwound,
The Blackbyrds,
Clear Light,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Shuggie Otis,
Make Up,
The Angels of Light,
China Crisis,
Jacob Miller,
Amon Düül II,
The Monks,
The Red Krayola,
Grauzone,
Crooked Eye,
Nation of Ulysses,
Skarface,
Massinfluence,
Masters at Work,
Nick Fraelich,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ponytail,
The Gun Club,
Delon & Dalcan,
Jacques Brel,
The Pretty Things,
Pagans,
Fad Gadget,
U.S. Maple,
Gabor Szabo,
Neil Young,
H. Thieme,
Chris Corsano,
Carl Craig,
Chrome,
Pole,
The Evens,
the Swans,
The Saints,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Q65,
Johnny Osbourne,
Maurizio,
Jimmy McGriff,
Goldenarms,
Eve St. Jones,
Electric Prunes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Das Ding,
Rakim,
Cabaret Voltaire,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
K-Klass,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.