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 Liechtenstein and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Boz Scaggs to the funk 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood 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 punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yusef Lateef record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Quando Quango,
Black Bananas,
Accadde A,
Rosa Yemen,
Youth Brigade,
Dennis Brown,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Star Department,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ultra Naté,
The Vogues,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lalann,
Niagra,
Tubeway Army,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Barrington Levy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Arab on Radar,
Judy Mowatt,
Mission of Burma,
Bobby Womack,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Moby Grape,
Grandmaster Flash,
Moebius,
Camouflage,
Basic Channel,
The Last Poets,
Eric Copeland,
Derrick Morgan,
Radiohead,
Drexciya,
Wally Richardson,
The Music Machine,
Fugazi,
The Pretty Things,
Slick Rick,
Gichy Dan,
Mantronix,
Slave,
Ponytail,
The Fuzztones,
Erykah Badu,
Deadbeat,
The Doors,
Pere Ubu,
Joey Negro,
Agitation Free,
Letta Mbulu,
Bluetip,
Swans,
Shoche,
Ornette Coleman,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jeff Mills,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.