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 Sweden and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 Jeff Lynne to the grunge 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 Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Blues Magoos,
Technova,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Dead C,
Monolake,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ohio Players,
Arab on Radar,
Young Marble Giants,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Searchers,
Alison Limerick,
Eurythmics,
Ronnie Foster,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ten City,
Dead Boys,
Kerri Chandler,
Susan Cadogan,
Pylon,
Franke,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Black Bananas,
Sam Rivers,
Gang of Four,
Pantytec,
The Mummies,
The Grass Roots,
Magazine,
Scrapy,
The Fire Engines,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kenny Larkin,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gong,
Moebius,
Livin' Joy,
Erasure,
Gichy Dan,
Thee Headcoats,
Harpers Bizarre,
Johnny Clarke,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Dual Sessions,
Bobby Sherman,
Camouflage,
Grandmaster Flash,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fela Kuti,
Hoover,
Soulsonic Force,
New Order,
Eli Mardock,
Monks,
Soft Machine,
Sun City Girls,
Man Parrish,
Public Image Ltd.,
Minny Pops,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.