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 Zambia and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalo Schifrin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
The Tremeloes,
Fela Kuti,
X-101,
The Velvet Underground,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Inner City,
Darondo,
Suburban Knight,
Boz Scaggs,
The Searchers,
Colin Newman,
Maurizio,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Barracudas,
New York Dolls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Japan,
Sex Pistols,
The Durutti Column,
Charles Mingus,
Wings,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mission of Burma,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Rufus Thomas,
The Last Poets,
Index,
Skarface,
The Walker Brothers,
Neil Young,
Crime,
World's Most,
Rakim,
Thee Headcoats,
Organ,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pagans,
Fluxion,
Ultra Naté,
L. Decosne,
Leonard Cohen,
The Doors,
Pet Shop Boys,
Royal Trux,
Nick Fraelich,
Kas Product,
Chris & Cosey,
Cecil Taylor,
DJ Style,
DJ Sneak,
Dawn Penn,
Derrick May,
Funky Four + One,
Soft Cell,
David Axelrod,
Dennis Brown,
Animal Collective,
the Human League,
New Age Steppers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.