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 Equatorial Guinea and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Columbus.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe 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 Brothers Johnson 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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jandek 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Human League,
Liliput,
Unrelated Segments,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Smiths,
Maurizio,
T.S.O.L.,
Warsaw,
Tomorrow,
Piero Umiliani,
Fad Gadget,
Delon & Dalcan,
Moebius,
Arcadia,
Wings,
Outsiders,
Marmalade,
John Coltrane,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sam Rivers,
EPMD,
Ten City,
Mark Hollis,
Ronnie Foster,
Hashim,
Black Bananas,
Livin' Joy,
The Remains,
Gabor Szabo,
The Star Department,
Sun City Girls,
Main Source,
The Fire Engines,
The Human League,
Bobby Sherman,
Janne Schatter,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Drexciya,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lindisfarne,
JFA,
Max Romeo,
Alison Limerick,
Erasure,
Supertramp,
the Swans,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Cowsills,
Ohio Players,
KRS-One,
Radio Birdman,
Barry Ungar,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Dark Day,
The Mummies,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Althea and Donna,
Pagans,
Malaria!,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Velvet Underground,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.