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 Albania and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South 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 The Grass Roots to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Banda Bassotti,
Gang Starr,
Theoretical Girls,
The Trojans,
Aural Exciters,
Albert Ayler,
Cal Tjader,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Altered Images,
Byron Stingily,
Lalann,
the Sonics,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bill Near,
The Slits,
Aaron Thompson,
Harmonia,
Soft Cell,
The Cowsills,
Aswad,
Nas,
The Star Department,
Juan Atkins,
Soft Machine,
Lightning Bolt,
Gang of Four,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Brass Construction,
Magma,
Joensuu 1685,
The Misunderstood,
Johnny Clarke,
Dawn Penn,
The Doors,
In Retrospect,
Anakelly,
Sandy B,
John Coltrane,
China Crisis,
Easy Going,
The Residents,
the Germs,
Bobby Sherman,
Boz Scaggs,
Robert Wyatt,
The Angels of Light,
Ten City,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Toasters,
Nick Fraelich,
Faust,
These Immortal Souls,
Crispy Ambulance,
Charles Mingus,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eli Mardock,
John Holt,
Patti Smith,
Sister Nancy,
Eric Copeland,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.