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 Barbados and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Donny Hathaway to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flash Fearless record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Chris Corsano,
Steve Hackett,
Grauzone,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Motorama,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dark Day,
the Fania All-Stars,
Royal Trux,
Funky Four + One,
The Last Poets,
Lee Hazlewood,
Blake Baxter,
The Dead C,
The Pretty Things,
The Seeds,
The Motions,
Simply Red,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Detroit Cobras,
Q and Not U,
Black Bananas,
Swell Maps,
Ituana,
The Moleskins,
Fugazi,
X-102,
Procol Harum,
R.M.O.,
Surgeon,
Howard Jones,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Roxette,
Marmalade,
OOIOO,
The Walker Brothers,
Organ,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Offenders,
Brand Nubian,
Heaven 17,
Delta 5,
The Martian,
Vladislav Delay,
Eve St. Jones,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Doors,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Grey Daturas,
The Neon Judgement,
Duran Duran,
Bluetip,
Donny Hathaway,
Sarah Menescal,
Bill Near,
Cecil Taylor,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.