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 Barbados and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
The Invisible,
The Dirtbombs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
F. McDonald,
Ken Boothe,
Rakim,
The Fire Engines,
Scott Walker,
Archie Shepp,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Banda Bassotti,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Theoretical Girls,
Saccharine Trust,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Fad Gadget,
Animal Collective,
Soft Cell,
Bobby Sherman,
Whodini,
Barbara Tucker,
Camouflage,
Black Flag,
The Gap Band,
Fluxion,
Barclay James Harvest,
Skarface,
Flamin' Groovies,
Can,
The Busters,
The Misunderstood,
Bang On A Can,
Ten City,
Magazine,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Freddie Wadling,
Severed Heads,
Excepter,
Bobby Byrd,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Gories,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Alphaville,
Scion,
Audionom,
Pierre Henry,
ABBA,
Basic Channel,
The Remains,
Skaos,
Crash Course in Science,
Max Romeo,
New York Dolls,
Morten Harket,
Slave,
Ultra Naté,
Swell Maps,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Sonics,
Absolute Body Control,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.