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 Luxembourg and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Eli Mardock to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion 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 theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
Moby Grape,
Warren Ellis,
Kevin Saunderson,
Black Moon,
The Happenings,
The Mummies,
Fear,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Index,
Absolute Body Control,
Minutemen,
Idris Muhammad,
Eden Ahbez,
Niagra,
Surgeon,
Scientists,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pylon,
John Foxx,
B.T. Express,
Suicide,
Warsaw,
Sällskapet,
Easy Going,
Talk Talk,
Intrusion,
The Moody Blues,
Q65,
Byron Stingily,
Section 25,
The Pop Group,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mark Hollis,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ponytail,
Don Cherry,
Pantytec,
Fluxion,
Wasted Youth,
JFA,
X-102,
Archie Shepp,
Popol Vuh,
Malaria!,
Outsiders,
Au Pairs,
Blossom Toes,
Vladislav Delay,
DJ Sneak,
Jacques Brel,
David Axelrod,
Country Teasers,
Funkadelic,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Oblivians,
Procol Harum,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.