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 Panama and from Hong Kong.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Bob Dylan to the techno 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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Agent Orange,
The Real Kids,
Cecil Taylor,
Mars,
The Electric Prunes,
The Neon Judgement,
Marine Girls,
Bobby Byrd,
Tomorrow,
Godley & Creme,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eden Ahbez,
Make Up,
Chris & Cosey,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Funkadelic,
Simply Red,
Maurizio,
B.T. Express,
Archie Shepp,
Lyres,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
8 Eyed Spy,
Surgeon,
Audionom,
Deakin,
Neu!,
The Blackbyrds,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eve St. Jones,
The Vogues,
Half Japanese,
Faraquet,
The Skatalites,
David Bowie,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jimmy McGriff,
Black Flag,
Nik Kershaw,
The Knickerbockers,
Warren Ellis,
The Motions,
Depeche Mode,
Spandau Ballet,
Bronski Beat,
The Shadows of Knight,
Darondo,
L. Decosne,
Barrington Levy,
Robert Wyatt,
The Gladiators,
Von Mondo,
Prince Buster,
Faust,
Mark Hollis,
Morten Harket,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.