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 the UAE and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 marimba 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 New Age Steppers to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
Hoover,
Moebius,
Ultra Naté,
Albert Ayler,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Audionom,
Boz Scaggs,
The Gun Club,
Mandrill,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
DNA,
Malaria!,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Symarip,
Electric Prunes,
Erasure,
Second Layer,
Gang Starr,
Porter Ricks,
The Mummies,
Minor Threat,
Sister Nancy,
Cybotron,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Gap Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ohio Players,
New Age Steppers,
Lalann,
Steve Hackett,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Excepter,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Accadde A,
Lyres,
Lungfish,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Radiopuhelimet,
Magazine,
K-Klass,
Scratch Acid,
Grey Daturas,
Babytalk,
Darondo,
Harry Pussy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
James White and The Blacks,
Pulsallama,
The Trojans,
The New Christs,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Colin Newman,
Cameo,
Kas Product,
Outsiders,
Yazoo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Angry Samoans,
Amon Düül,
Rotary Connection,
Barbara Tucker,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.