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 Taiwan and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sun City Girls to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alton Ellis,
Terry Callier,
Whodini,
These Immortal Souls,
Yaz,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gang of Four,
Pole,
Mandrill,
T. Rex,
The Doobie Brothers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Procol Harum,
Bluetip,
Cameo,
Curtis Mayfield,
Wire,
Godley & Creme,
Throbbing Gristle,
Harry Pussy,
Howard Jones,
The Evens,
Unrelated Segments,
The Index,
Sixth Finger,
Janne Schatter,
Roxy Music,
Brick,
The Mummies,
Angry Samoans,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ultra Naté,
Tom Boy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Human League,
Cymande,
Reuben Wilson,
Organ,
Bill Wells,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Livin' Joy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Inner City,
Roy Ayers,
The Neon Judgement,
Amon Düül,
Saccharine Trust,
Monolake,
the Association,
Outsiders,
Japan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Skriet,
The Residents,
Colin Newman,
Audionom,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.