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 Comoros and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Invisible 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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
Con Funk Shun,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Aural Exciters,
Harry Pussy,
Country Teasers,
Cheater Slicks,
Hoover,
The Slackers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Mission of Burma,
Warsaw,
Sexual Harrassment,
Maurizio,
Rod Modell,
The Fugs,
Fat Boys,
Nils Olav,
Minnie Riperton,
Eyeless In Gaza,
UT,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Barry Ungar,
Das Ding,
Lucky Dragons,
Interpol,
Black Sheep,
Marshall Jefferson,
T. Rex,
The Count Five,
Essential Logic,
Blake Baxter,
Michelle Simonal,
Average White Band,
Easy Going,
Archie Shepp,
Skriet,
Rapeman,
The Wake,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pole,
Television Personalities,
Curtis Mayfield,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Brand Nubian,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sun City Girls,
Slick Rick,
ABBA,
Bizarre Inc.,
Masters at Work,
The Gun Club,
kango's stein massive,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Sound,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Surgeon,
World's Most,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.