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 Mauritania and from Seoul.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Sam Rivers to the jazz 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Nation of Ulysses,
Whodini,
Supertramp,
Newcleus,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Average White Band,
Hardrive,
Mad Mike,
Rotary Connection,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Star Department,
Funkadelic,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Animal Collective,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Victims,
Andrew Hill,
Joy Division,
The Durutti Column,
Black Pus,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Michelle Simonal,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Amazonics,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Morten Harket,
Absolute Body Control,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ice-T,
Radio Birdman,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Offenders,
The Fuzztones,
New York Dolls,
OOIOO,
Erykah Badu,
Magazine,
Intrusion,
Barclay James Harvest,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bush Tetras,
Pere Ubu,
Nico,
Soulsonic Force,
Brass Construction,
Connie Case,
Yaz,
Marine Girls,
Silicon Teens,
Bobby Womack,
Jeff Mills,
R.M.O.,
Mo-Dettes,
Marc Almond,
Quadrant,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Monochrome Set,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.