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 Cameroon and from Manila.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 ABBA to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Nik Kershaw,
Aural Exciters,
Lalo Schifrin,
Crash Course in Science,
The Martian,
Toni Rubio,
The New Christs,
Crooked Eye,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Fear,
Amazonics,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Birthday Party,
The Golliwogs,
Newcleus,
Rakim,
Amon Düül II,
The Angels of Light,
The Evens,
the Swans,
Sällskapet,
The Young Rascals,
Charles Mingus,
Mandrill,
Bad Manners,
Anakelly,
K-Klass,
The Pretty Things,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Faust,
The Blues Magoos,
Colin Newman,
Agitation Free,
Pole,
La Düsseldorf,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sonny Sharrock,
Camouflage,
Leonard Cohen,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Cure,
Angry Samoans,
Babytalk,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Young Marble Giants,
The Gap Band,
Al Stewart,
T. Rex,
The Slits,
the Germs,
Idris Muhammad,
Gang Starr,
Harry Pussy,
Banda Bassotti,
Mo-Dettes,
Eve St. Jones,
The Grass Roots,
Robert Wyatt,
Harmonia,
Blake Baxter,
Erasure,
Throbbing Gristle,
Clear Light,
Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes.
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.