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 Czech Republic and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Toronto.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Faraquet to the rap 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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Archie Shepp,
The Selecter,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eric Copeland,
Gong,
Delta 5,
Minnie Riperton,
Ultra Naté,
The Young Rascals,
Crash Course in Science,
Smog,
Howard Jones,
Surgeon,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Absolute Body Control,
Soulsonic Force,
Franke,
Traffic Nightmare,
Saccharine Trust,
Sun City Girls,
Amon Düül II,
The Searchers,
The Slits,
Aloha Tigers,
The Cure,
The Music Machine,
Toni Rubio,
Cabaret Voltaire,
X-101,
The Last Poets,
Kerri Chandler,
Crispian St. Peters,
Dark Day,
Banda Bassotti,
Andrew Hill,
Fad Gadget,
The J.B.'s,
The Cowsills,
The Star Department,
The Gories,
The Detroit Cobras,
Yaz,
Desert Stars,
Al Stewart,
Kayak,
DJ Sneak,
Kaleidoscope,
Ice-T,
Funky Four + One,
Robert Wyatt,
Shoche,
Minny Pops,
Japan,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Blackbyrds,
Lindisfarne,
Morten Harket,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.