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 Manchester.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Liaisons Dangereuses 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes 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 Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Bobby Womack,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Wasted Youth,
Vladislav Delay,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Velvet Underground,
Q and Not U,
The Divine Comedy,
the Bar-Kays,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Five Americans,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Slits,
The Monochrome Set,
Janne Schatter,
Barbara Tucker,
The Walker Brothers,
Crime,
Interpol,
Glenn Branca,
Ituana,
Black Moon,
Joey Negro,
Franke,
Public Image Ltd.,
Avey Tare,
Brothers Johnson,
Tom Boy,
Blancmange,
Lucky Dragons,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pharoah Sanders,
K-Klass,
Kenny Larkin,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ludus,
Guru Guru,
Newcleus,
Sun City Girls,
The Slits,
Dorothy Ashby,
Donny Hathaway,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Procol Harum,
Alphaville,
Lee Hazlewood,
Supertramp,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Last Poets,
Flipper,
Roy Ayers,
Little Man,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Deepchord,
MDC,
Heaven 17,
Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet.
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.