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 Morocco and from Houston.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 harpsichord 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 Minny Pops to the grunge 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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Fat Boys,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Warren Ellis,
E-Dancer,
Kenny Larkin,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Star Department,
Boogie Down Productions,
Dual Sessions,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Newcleus,
Alice Coltrane,
Nik Kershaw,
Delon & Dalcan,
Khruangbin,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Martian,
Sandy B,
Half Japanese,
Marcia Griffiths,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pole,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Essential Logic,
Warsaw,
The Litter,
Cameo,
The Move,
Throbbing Gristle,
Johnny Clarke,
DJ Sneak,
L. Decosne,
Cymande,
Robert Görl,
Surgeon,
Rekid,
The Birthday Party,
The Moleskins,
Los Fastidios,
One Last Wish,
Roxette,
Crispian St. Peters,
Stiv Bators,
The Velvet Underground,
Tears for Fears,
Swans,
Danielle Patucci,
The Dead C,
The Stooges,
Moss Icon,
Angry Samoans,
Scrapy,
Lou Christie,
Glambeats Corp.,
Radio Birdman,
the Bar-Kays,
Outsiders,
Japan,
Jeff Lynne,
David Bowie,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.