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 Mauritius and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 organ 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 Barclay James Harvest to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aural Exciters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Qualms,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Joyce Sims,
F. McDonald,
The Smoke,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Faust,
Barclay James Harvest,
Howard Jones,
Inner City,
Deepchord,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Stetsasonic,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Cymande,
Scan 7,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ludus,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Urselle,
Sixth Finger,
Los Fastidios,
Supertramp,
MDC,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
John Holt,
Black Pus,
Minor Threat,
Crispy Ambulance,
Harmonia,
Radiohead,
Barbara Tucker,
Hoover,
Arthur Verocai,
Schoolly D,
Public Enemy,
Steve Hackett,
Television Personalities,
Todd Rundgren,
The Star Department,
Bob Dylan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
10cc,
Joey Negro,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fluxion,
Jandek,
Electric Prunes,
Radio Birdman,
Make Up,
The Raincoats,
Sandy B,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fuzztones,
Slave,
Alton Ellis,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.