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 Equatorial Guinea and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Pussy Galore to the funk 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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Five Americans,
Howard Jones,
the Sonics,
Drive Like Jehu,
Talk Talk,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Angry Samoans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Suicide,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sight & Sound,
Severed Heads,
Joey Negro,
Avey Tare,
Los Fastidios,
Marine Girls,
Alton Ellis,
Cal Tjader,
This Heat,
Wolf Eyes,
Country Teasers,
Josef K,
Boz Scaggs,
Joensuu 1685,
the Soft Cell,
Section 25,
Masters at Work,
DJ Sneak,
Fatback Band,
Mantronix,
Television Personalities,
Bad Manners,
Bobby Byrd,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Toasters,
David Axelrod,
Man Parrish,
Black Moon,
Barry Ungar,
Lower 48,
The Kinks,
Alphaville,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Nick Fraelich,
Minnie Riperton,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Remains,
Dark Day,
The Barracudas,
Grey Daturas,
Glambeats Corp.,
Beasts of Bourbon,
B.T. Express,
Excepter,
MDC,
Easy Going,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Smiths,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.