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 Ghana and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Skatalites to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Todd Terry,
ABBA,
The Count Five,
Tres Demented,
Ultravox,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
A Certain Ratio,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Saccharine Trust,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Stiv Bators,
Lightning Bolt,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Cowsills,
Slave,
The Moleskins,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
48th St. Collective,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobby Sherman,
Surgeon,
Joy Division,
The Zeros,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jacques Brel,
Eric B and Rakim,
David Axelrod,
Make Up,
Slick Rick,
The Walker Brothers,
Scott Walker,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Soft Cell,
The Motions,
Q and Not U,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jeff Lynne,
Colin Newman,
Mission of Burma,
Janne Schatter,
The Barracudas,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Albert Ayler,
Monolake,
Hardrive,
Sister Nancy,
Bauhaus,
Robert Wyatt,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Stetsasonic,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lalann,
Yellowson,
Duran Duran,
Kas Product,
Khruangbin,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.