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 Gabon and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Lungfish to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Intrusion,
Arab on Radar,
Bluetip,
Suburban Knight,
Tubeway Army,
Brass Construction,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Durutti Column,
Sparks,
the Sonics,
Circle Jerks,
Robert Wyatt,
Spandau Ballet,
The Beau Brummels,
Archie Shepp,
Reuben Wilson,
Brand Nubian,
Ronan,
Infiniti,
Lou Reed,
The Count Five,
Minnie Riperton,
Heaven 17,
Deadbeat,
Nico,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rod Modell,
Desert Stars,
Gil Scott Heron,
Yazoo,
Man Parrish,
Joy Division,
Anakelly,
KRS-One,
Althea and Donna,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Divine Comedy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Kinks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Skaos,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Barracudas,
John Lydon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Funkadelic,
Guru Guru,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Judy Mowatt,
Crash Course in Science,
Mad Mike,
The Gun Club,
Scan 7,
Ossler,
Minutemen,
Sarah Menescal,
Hasil Adkins,
Gastr Del Sol,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Tremeloes,
Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product.
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.