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 Rwanda and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Gong 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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers Ubiquity record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Juan Atkins,
Rekid,
Magazine,
Sandy B,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Talk Talk,
Symarip,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Average White Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Anthony Braxton,
Erasure,
Big Daddy Kane,
Marmalade,
Pantaleimon,
Terry Callier,
Bob Dylan,
Bootsy Collins,
The Smoke,
Interpol,
Flipper,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
T. Rex,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Byron Stingily,
Whodini,
Kaleidoscope,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lalo Schifrin,
Vainqueur,
Bill Near,
Cal Tjader,
Aswad,
Frankie Knuckles,
Urselle,
Tomorrow,
Gang Green,
Steve Hackett,
Roger Hodgson,
Stiv Bators,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sun City Girls,
Dawn Penn,
Khruangbin,
Moss Icon,
Masters at Work,
Smog,
Swans,
Lucky Dragons,
The Stooges,
Malaria!,
Nik Kershaw,
Isaac Hayes,
David Axelrod,
Bang On A Can,
Scratch Acid,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.