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 Somalia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 oboe 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 Fela Kuti to the grunge 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Dead C,
Lalo Schifrin,
Minnie Riperton,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Red Krayola,
The Angels of Light,
The Misunderstood,
Sonny Sharrock,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Loose Ends,
Urselle,
Ultra Naté,
Dorothy Ashby,
Yusef Lateef,
the Swans,
Lebanon Hanover,
Steve Hackett,
The Associates,
Josef K,
Jacques Brel,
Black Pus,
Minny Pops,
Das Ding,
Average White Band,
James White and The Blacks,
Agent Orange,
Boogie Down Productions,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gichy Dan,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kurtis Blow,
Eric Copeland,
Gang of Four,
Michelle Simonal,
L. Decosne,
Howard Jones,
Delon & Dalcan,
a-ha,
The J.B.'s,
The Searchers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Soft Machine,
Tears for Fears,
The Five Americans,
Babytalk,
The New Christs,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Young Rascals,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Niagra,
Kerri Chandler,
Jerry's Kids,
Wire,
Carl Craig,
Theoretical Girls,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Flamin' Groovies,
Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities.
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.