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 Suriname and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 snare 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 Freddie Wadling to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
The Move,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Cure,
Audionom,
The Gap Band,
Don Cherry,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Moleskins,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scrapy,
Peter & Gordon,
Slave,
Fatback Band,
T. Rex,
Slick Rick,
Animal Collective,
Gabor Szabo,
The Sonics,
Oblivians,
Moby Grape,
A Certain Ratio,
Fugazi,
Little Man,
The Smiths,
the Normal,
Arthur Verocai,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lou Reed,
Lakeside,
The Misunderstood,
Lindisfarne,
Organ,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Khruangbin,
Graham Central Station,
Sister Nancy,
Ken Boothe,
Unrelated Segments,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Soul Sonic Force,
Deepchord,
Swans,
Derrick Morgan,
Isaac Hayes,
June Days,
Japan,
Nas,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marc Almond,
Eric Copeland,
Bobby Byrd,
Dual Sessions,
This Heat,
Erasure,
Blossom Toes,
Wire,
Index,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.