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 Congo and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
Matthew Bourne,
Byron Stingily,
Todd Terry,
Kaleidoscope,
Accadde A,
X-102,
Pussy Galore,
F. McDonald,
Moebius,
China Crisis,
The Human League,
Dawn Penn,
Niagra,
Pharoah Sanders,
Franke,
Saccharine Trust,
Simply Red,
The Electric Prunes,
The Skatalites,
ABC,
Gang Gang Dance,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
K-Klass,
The Wake,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Mummies,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Warren Ellis,
Pole,
Mandrill,
Youth Brigade,
New Order,
Basic Channel,
Mantronix,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gil Scott Heron,
Talk Talk,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Evens,
Fad Gadget,
Kerri Chandler,
Robert Wyatt,
The Buckinghams,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rakim,
Hashim,
Kayak,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Black Flag,
David McCallum,
The Blackbyrds,
B.T. Express,
Gang of Four,
The Music Machine,
Guru Guru,
Los Fastidios,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Liliput,
Eric B and Rakim,
Soft Cell,
Frankie Knuckles,
Goldenarms,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.