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 Mali and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 linndrum 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 Man Eating Sloth to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Joe Smooth. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
the Swans,
John Holt,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Leonard Cohen,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Arthur Verocai,
Brass Construction,
Young Marble Giants,
Don Cherry,
Morten Harket,
Intrusion,
Todd Terry,
the Slits,
Buzzcocks,
Von Mondo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Monks,
David Bowie,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Scientists,
Josef K,
The Vogues,
Sällskapet,
Black Pus,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Oneida,
The Birthday Party,
U.S. Maple,
Mary Jane Girls,
Faust,
Babytalk,
The Moleskins,
Soft Cell,
Slave,
X-102,
The Black Dice,
Fat Boys,
Alison Limerick,
The Misunderstood,
Aswad,
Talk Talk,
Eddi Front,
The Fugs,
Thee Headcoats,
Scan 7,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Franke,
The Invisible,
The Cowsills,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Camouflage,
T. Rex,
Pet Shop Boys,
Can,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Unrelated Segments,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.