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 New Zealand and from Calgary.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 arpeggiator 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 The Cosmic Jokers to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
a-ha,
The Fire Engines,
Wasted Youth,
Dorothy Ashby,
Saccharine Trust,
X-102,
B.T. Express,
The Pop Group,
The Velvet Underground,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Blues Magoos,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Youth Brigade,
Dennis Brown,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Black Flag,
Zero Boys,
Oblivians,
Von Mondo,
Mo-Dettes,
AZ,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Skriet,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kurtis Blow,
Index,
Radio Birdman,
Grandmaster Flash,
Dual Sessions,
Brothers Johnson,
Bang On A Can,
Shoche,
Judy Mowatt,
Scan 7,
Lungfish,
Moss Icon,
The Smiths,
Bill Wells,
Pussy Galore,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cecil Taylor,
Darondo,
The Slits,
Leonard Cohen,
Harmonia,
Gang Starr,
The Angels of Light,
Marine Girls,
Tubeway Army,
Massinfluence,
Smog,
Joy Division,
Joe Smooth,
Albert Ayler,
Guru Guru,
John Foxx,
The Selecter,
Barbara Tucker,
Stereo Dub,
Colin Newman,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.