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 France and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Erasure to the grime 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Toni Rubio,
Quadrant,
Scrapy,
Babytalk,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Beau Brummels,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gang Green,
The Selecter,
Sällskapet,
Eli Mardock,
Maleditus Sound,
D'Angelo,
John Holt,
Chris Corsano,
Nation of Ulysses,
Wire,
Patti Smith,
The Doobie Brothers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Symarip,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Boredoms,
Barbara Tucker,
Nils Olav,
Minor Threat,
Althea and Donna,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Suicide,
Easy Going,
The Grass Roots,
Sarah Menescal,
the Slits,
Fela Kuti,
Simply Red,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sugar Minott,
David Axelrod,
Mission of Burma,
Bill Near,
Tres Demented,
The Vogues,
AZ,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
Radiohead,
Anakelly,
Soft Machine,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Durutti Column,
The Last Poets,
Kenny Larkin,
Lyres,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
H. Thieme,
CMW,
Rhythm & Sound,
Intrusion,
The Knickerbockers,
Roxette,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.