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 Chad and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 48th St. Collective to the punk 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 CMW. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
AZ,
Rod Modell,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Dave Clark Five,
Urselle,
Deepchord,
The Moleskins,
Graham Central Station,
Sister Nancy,
Essential Logic,
Fatback Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
New Age Steppers,
James White and The Blacks,
Erykah Badu,
Scan 7,
David McCallum,
The Detroit Cobras,
D'Angelo,
Robert Görl,
The Golliwogs,
Agitation Free,
Prince Buster,
The Litter,
Boz Scaggs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sugar Minott,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Michelle Simonal,
Junior Murvin,
Skriet,
Unrelated Segments,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Dead C,
Black Moon,
Reagan Youth,
B.T. Express,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Swell Maps,
Fugazi,
Wally Richardson,
Bronski Beat,
Oneida,
Inner City,
Oblivians,
Fad Gadget,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Index,
The Real Kids,
Lalo Schifrin,
Icehouse,
Tres Demented,
Carl Craig,
June Days,
Bobby Womack,
Godley & Creme,
Henry Cow,
Bang On A Can,
Supertramp,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.