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 Uzbekistan and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Wally Richardson to the punk 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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Nik Kershaw,
Wasted Youth,
Technova,
U.S. Maple,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mo-Dettes,
Von Mondo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jeff Mills,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Saints,
D'Angelo,
Eric Copeland,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Country Teasers,
Yazoo,
Robert Wyatt,
Aswad,
Severed Heads,
Be Bop Deluxe,
T. Rex,
Bluetip,
Camberwell Now,
Iggy Pop,
Brand Nubian,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Leaves,
Audionom,
Sexual Harrassment,
Groovy Waters,
10cc,
Minor Threat,
Jimmy McGriff,
David Axelrod,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Pretty Things,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Desert Stars,
The Mojo Men,
Marvin Gaye,
Johnny Clarke,
Loose Ends,
Negative Approach,
Nico,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Fugs,
The Cure,
The Five Americans,
Peter and Kerry,
Tom Boy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Stockholm Monsters,
Eli Mardock,
Hoover,
Crash Course in Science,
The Doobie Brothers,
Zapp,
The Beau Brummels,
The Golliwogs,
Shoche,
Tears for Fears,
June of 44,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.