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 Slovenia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Pussy Galore to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Al Stewart 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Schoolly D,
Bluetip,
Pole,
Depeche Mode,
kango's stein massive,
The Durutti Column,
Pantaleimon,
Robert Hood,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
CMW,
X-102,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eden Ahbez,
48th St. Collective,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Velvet Underground,
Silicon Teens,
Cecil Taylor,
The Beau Brummels,
The Divine Comedy,
China Crisis,
Sight & Sound,
Al Stewart,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Monolake,
LL Cool J,
Icehouse,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Subhumans,
The Fall,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Gun Club,
Zapp,
Rapeman,
Shuggie Otis,
Camouflage,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Idris Muhammad,
The Cowsills,
Robert Wyatt,
Freddie Wadling,
The Wake,
Ronnie Foster,
Throbbing Gristle,
Crispy Ambulance,
Television,
Tears for Fears,
Minor Threat,
Can,
Fat Boys,
Guru Guru,
The Golliwogs,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eurythmics,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.