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 Bhutan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marc Almond to the crunk 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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Pierre Henry,
Dennis Brown,
T. Rex,
The Flesh Eaters,
Quando Quango,
Vainqueur,
Girls At Our Best!,
Magma,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Q and Not U,
Laurel Aitken,
Soul II Soul,
The Count Five,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Malaria!,
Judy Mowatt,
Liliput,
B.T. Express,
Minny Pops,
The Cure,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Grauzone,
F. McDonald,
The Gories,
the Sonics,
Marine Girls,
Gabor Szabo,
Fluxion,
Zero Boys,
Reuben Wilson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
John Cale,
Camouflage,
Suicide,
Anakelly,
Mandrill,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bootsy Collins,
Echospace,
Arcadia,
Junior Murvin,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Prince Buster,
Pulsallama,
Angry Samoans,
The Names,
Model 500,
Hardrive,
Bobby Sherman,
Fatback Band,
Soul Sonic Force,
Johnny Osbourne,
In Retrospect,
Sound Behaviour,
Gang Green,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.