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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Arab on Radar to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
Reuben Wilson,
X-Ray Spex,
The Birthday Party,
Jacques Brel,
Tomorrow,
Max Romeo,
The Monochrome Set,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Letta Mbulu,
Shoche,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kenny Larkin,
Radiopuhelimet,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scion,
Brothers Johnson,
Black Pus,
Gang Gang Dance,
Crispy Ambulance,
MC5,
DJ Sneak,
10cc,
Section 25,
Circle Jerks,
New Order,
Robert Hood,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Fall,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Joy Division,
Make Up,
Organ,
Barrington Levy,
Unwound,
Marc Almond,
Desert Stars,
Amazonics,
Charles Mingus,
Hashim,
Ituana,
The Cosmic Jokers,
AZ,
Sixth Finger,
Sonic Youth,
Archie Shepp,
The Flesh Eaters,
Average White Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Newcleus,
Nils Olav,
Boredoms,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marmalade,
Harry Pussy,
Ludus,
Graham Central Station,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.