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 Paraguay and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Cairo.
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 1973 at the first Television 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 Gabor Szabo to the disco 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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Malaria!,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Young Rascals,
Deadbeat,
Alphaville,
One Last Wish,
Ultimate Spinach,
Yazoo,
Eddi Front,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eurythmics,
The Martian,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Human League,
The Mojo Men,
Simply Red,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rufus Thomas,
Eric Dolphy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lou Christie,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
L. Decosne,
Barrington Levy,
The Monks,
Sun Ra,
Gabor Szabo,
The Red Krayola,
The Smiths,
Moss Icon,
Gang of Four,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Rotary Connection,
Audionom,
Black Sheep,
Neu!,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gregory Isaacs,
Reagan Youth,
Oblivians,
Boz Scaggs,
Chris & Cosey,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ice-T,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Kinks,
Symarip,
The Selecter,
Intrusion,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ludus,
Grauzone,
Bad Manners,
Subhumans,
Liliput,
ABBA,
F. McDonald,
Funkadelic,
Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale.
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.