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 Mozambique 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers 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 '80s 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 Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pharoah Sanders,
These Immortal Souls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Peter and Kerry,
Ituana,
Arthur Verocai,
Sam Rivers,
Matthew Halsall,
Audionom,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Carl Craig,
Animal Collective,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bill Wells,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ultravox,
Fear,
Donny Hathaway,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rites of Spring,
Delta 5,
Youth Brigade,
Country Teasers,
Slave,
Rufus Thomas,
Pantaleimon,
Fat Boys,
Ralphi Rosario,
Blake Baxter,
DJ Style,
Depeche Mode,
MDC,
John Coltrane,
Boz Scaggs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Steve Hackett,
LL Cool J,
EPMD,
Wally Richardson,
Arab on Radar,
OOIOO,
The Five Americans,
Hashim,
Prince Buster,
Tom Boy,
Cal Tjader,
Johnny Clarke,
Sällskapet,
The Red Krayola,
Bang On A Can,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rapeman,
The Invisible,
Mars,
Radiohead,
Suicide,
Guru Guru,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.