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 Mauritania and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Flesh Eaters to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Aswad,
Gabor Szabo,
Gang of Four,
Anakelly,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Faust,
Stetsasonic,
Lee Hazlewood,
Minny Pops,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Monochrome Set,
Goldenarms,
The New Christs,
Camberwell Now,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Crispian St. Peters,
Warsaw,
Ice-T,
Jeff Lynne,
Colin Newman,
Lungfish,
The Young Rascals,
The Zeros,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Surgeon,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Television Personalities,
Swell Maps,
Ohio Players,
Bob Dylan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Erykah Badu,
Radiohead,
Make Up,
Bang On A Can,
Eric B and Rakim,
Robert Wyatt,
The Moleskins,
Mad Mike,
JFA,
The Modern Lovers,
Alice Coltrane,
Jacob Miller,
Soul Sonic Force,
Alphaville,
Royal Trux,
Yusef Lateef,
Lightning Bolt,
Guru Guru,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lucky Dragons,
Radiopuhelimet,
Infiniti,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Arthur Verocai,
Lalann,
The Cure,
Pierre Henry,
Alison Limerick,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Mojo Men,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.