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 Sweden and from Lille.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Accadde A to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Motions. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
AZ,
Steve Hackett,
Ultimate Spinach,
Morten Harket,
Arcadia,
The Beau Brummels,
Bluetip,
Don Cherry,
The Barracudas,
Max Romeo,
Popol Vuh,
Glenn Branca,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pet Shop Boys,
Iggy Pop,
the Normal,
Negative Approach,
D'Angelo,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Blake Baxter,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Blackbyrds,
The Index,
Todd Rundgren,
John Holt,
The Buckinghams,
Marc Almond,
Procol Harum,
Television,
Infiniti,
Ituana,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Derrick Morgan,
Fat Boys,
Ten City,
Technova,
F. McDonald,
Maleditus Sound,
Man Parrish,
Flipper,
June Days,
Gabor Szabo,
Suicide,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Monochrome Set,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Von Mondo,
Lightning Bolt,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Half Japanese,
The Busters,
Tubeway Army,
Suburban Knight,
Maurizio,
The Slits,
Ossler,
The Red Krayola,
The Remains,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.