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 Barbados and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the dance 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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Pagans,
The Barracudas,
Howard Jones,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Doors,
Anakelly,
The Martian,
Agitation Free,
Drexciya,
The Fortunes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
A Certain Ratio,
The American Breed,
48th St. Collective,
Tomorrow,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cal Tjader,
EPMD,
The Red Krayola,
Derrick May,
D'Angelo,
Scratch Acid,
Kerri Chandler,
Monolake,
Ronnie Foster,
Marine Girls,
The Gun Club,
Gregory Isaacs,
Robert Görl,
DJ Sneak,
Henry Cow,
Ten City,
Mandrill,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Vainqueur,
Rites of Spring,
Kurtis Blow,
Goldenarms,
Barrington Levy,
Radio Birdman,
T. Rex,
the Normal,
Gong,
Crime,
Eden Ahbez,
Grandmaster Flash,
Trumans Water,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The United States of America,
the Soft Cell,
Silicon Teens,
Sister Nancy,
The Mojo Men,
Vladislav Delay,
Technova,
Barbara Tucker,
Donny Hathaway,
Banda Bassotti,
Sparks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
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.