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 Belize and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Philadelphia.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the rhodes 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 48th St. Collective to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Peter and Kerry,
The Misunderstood,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Chrome,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sixth Finger,
Soul II Soul,
Lalo Schifrin,
Johnny Osbourne,
Oblivians,
The Raincoats,
The Smiths,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Beau Brummels,
Neil Young,
Mantronix,
Scion,
Harpers Bizarre,
Delon & Dalcan,
Wire,
The Detroit Cobras,
Erasure,
Boz Scaggs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bobby Womack,
Tubeway Army,
The Selecter,
Amon Düül II,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Arab on Radar,
Moby Grape,
Brass Construction,
Can,
Fluxion,
Intrusion,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Monks,
The Invisible,
Con Funk Shun,
Pantytec,
F. McDonald,
The Neon Judgement,
Skaos,
Brothers Johnson,
Gregory Isaacs,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Dead C,
The Smoke,
The Electric Prunes,
Rakim,
Sonny Sharrock,
Stetsasonic,
Todd Rundgren,
Arthur Verocai,
Mad Mike,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Wolf Eyes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Althea and Donna,
Ornette Coleman,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.