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 Ghana and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Au Pairs to the jazz 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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
A Certain Ratio,
Half Japanese,
The Modern Lovers,
Lightning Bolt,
Y Pants,
Agitation Free,
The Invisible,
Connie Case,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
James White and The Blacks,
Alison Limerick,
DNA,
Cybotron,
Yusef Lateef,
Animal Collective,
Frankie Knuckles,
Glambeats Corp.,
The New Christs,
Rufus Thomas,
Nico,
Bill Near,
Camberwell Now,
Wally Richardson,
Michelle Simonal,
Tommy Roe,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bobby Sherman,
The United States of America,
X-101,
Lou Reed,
Stockholm Monsters,
Aloha Tigers,
Fat Boys,
Spoonie Gee,
The Mummies,
Hashim,
Brick,
the Sonics,
Sugar Minott,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Cowsills,
Andrew Hill,
Agent Orange,
Tom Boy,
Sarah Menescal,
Basic Channel,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Anthony Braxton,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jeru the Damaja,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jeff Lynne,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Underground Resistance,
Unrelated Segments,
Tomorrow,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Iggy Pop,
T. Rex,
Eli Mardock,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.