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 Montenegro and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Dawn Penn,
The Motions,
Glenn Branca,
Urselle,
The Angels of Light,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Swans,
Skriet,
The Young Rascals,
The Walker Brothers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eurythmics,
Rufus Thomas,
Ralphi Rosario,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fatback Band,
Stereo Dub,
The American Breed,
Fad Gadget,
Pole,
Faraquet,
The Happenings,
Aloha Tigers,
Soul II Soul,
Mantronix,
Quando Quango,
Hoover,
The Saints,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Blackbyrds,
World's Most,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Litter,
The Fuzztones,
Soft Machine,
Lucky Dragons,
The Busters,
Oblivians,
Byron Stingily,
The Monochrome Set,
the Sonics,
Wolf Eyes,
Angry Samoans,
Magazine,
Cal Tjader,
Moebius,
Dennis Brown,
Arab on Radar,
Prince Buster,
Laurel Aitken,
Kayak,
Deepchord,
The Trojans,
The Star Department,
Y Pants,
The Neon Judgement,
Organ,
Scan 7,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.