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 San Marino and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 sitar 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 China Crisis to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Index,
Scion,
The Last Poets,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kurtis Blow,
Boredoms,
Pharoah Sanders,
Goldenarms,
Japan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Shoche,
The Beau Brummels,
Donald Byrd,
The Divine Comedy,
Make Up,
The Zeros,
Dead Boys,
Mark Hollis,
Tim Buckley,
H. Thieme,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lungfish,
New Age Steppers,
Essential Logic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Music Machine,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Monks,
Cheater Slicks,
Sixth Finger,
Matthew Bourne,
Chrome,
Panda Bear,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Henry Cow,
The Searchers,
Underground Resistance,
Pussy Galore,
The Trojans,
Surgeon,
Rakim,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Erykah Badu,
Nas,
a-ha,
The Knickerbockers,
The Mummies,
The Dave Clark Five,
K-Klass,
Fugazi,
Whodini,
Godley & Creme,
The Motions,
Audionom,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Babytalk,
The Star Department,
The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band.
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.