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 Honduras and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Blues Magoos to the disco 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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alton Ellis,
The Trojans,
Rapeman,
Eddi Front,
Stereo Dub,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dawn Penn,
Echospace,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Barracudas,
Deepchord,
Reagan Youth,
Tears for Fears,
UT,
The Tremeloes,
The Smoke,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Arthur Verocai,
The J.B.'s,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Smog,
X-101,
The Invisible,
Juan Atkins,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lalann,
Lucky Dragons,
Moebius,
Matthew Bourne,
Mars,
China Crisis,
Piero Umiliani,
Brick,
The Shadows of Knight,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Cluster,
Roxy Music,
Gregory Isaacs,
La Düsseldorf,
Q and Not U,
The Happenings,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Gap Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Average White Band,
Warsaw,
Con Funk Shun,
Little Man,
H. Thieme,
Gabor Szabo,
LL Cool J,
Hoover,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jeff Lynne,
Zapp,
The Five Americans,
The Buckinghams,
48th St. Collective,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ice-T,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.