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 Burkina and from Calgary.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Searchers to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Roxy Music,
Thee Headcoats,
Siglo XX,
The Searchers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Quando Quango,
The Dirtbombs,
The Durutti Column,
The Slackers,
Maleditus Sound,
Swell Maps,
The Sonics,
Minny Pops,
Scion,
Rosa Yemen,
Au Pairs,
Blancmange,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kas Product,
Max Romeo,
Popol Vuh,
The Dead C,
Cybotron,
Big Daddy Kane,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Colin Newman,
Banda Bassotti,
The Fugs,
Scan 7,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sandy B,
Harmonia,
Andrew Hill,
Parry Music,
Icehouse,
Patti Smith,
Eric B and Rakim,
Franke,
Joyce Sims,
Archie Shepp,
The Techniques,
The Fortunes,
Johnny Clarke,
The Selecter,
Wings,
Circle Jerks,
Neil Young,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Pretty Things,
Sister Nancy,
Monolake,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Wolf Eyes,
Eurythmics,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lou Christie,
The Saints,
Motorama,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.