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 Mali and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 rhodes 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 the Soft Cell to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aural Exciters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Alice Coltrane,
Aloha Tigers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Panda Bear,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Soft Machine,
Q and Not U,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Victims,
Max Romeo,
Dawn Penn,
Don Cherry,
Jacques Brel,
Gabor Szabo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Nils Olav,
The Beau Brummels,
The Monochrome Set,
Reuben Wilson,
Charles Mingus,
The Associates,
Parry Music,
Johnny Osbourne,
James White and The Blacks,
The Trojans,
Prince Buster,
Heaven 17,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Henry Cow,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Zero Boys,
Suicide,
Buzzcocks,
Aswad,
The Raincoats,
The Angels of Light,
The Knickerbockers,
Tears for Fears,
The Red Krayola,
The Tremeloes,
Basic Channel,
Todd Terry,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Black Sheep,
Outsiders,
The Gun Club,
the Germs,
Marshall Jefferson,
Althea and Donna,
Morten Harket,
Surgeon,
Technova,
Eli Mardock,
Swans,
Inner City,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Robert Wyatt,
Black Bananas,
Marc Almond,
The Doobie Brothers,
Severed Heads,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.