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 Kuwait and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 LL Cool J to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
L. Decosne,
Ronnie Foster,
The Fugs,
Sparks,
The Sound,
Lou Reed,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Soft Machine,
Los Fastidios,
Rites of Spring,
AZ,
Sight & Sound,
John Foxx,
Icehouse,
Y Pants,
Essential Logic,
The Gladiators,
New York Dolls,
Minor Threat,
Cybotron,
Amon Düül,
John Cale,
Flipper,
Nik Kershaw,
Altered Images,
Lower 48,
Bluetip,
the Swans,
Wolf Eyes,
Schoolly D,
Agent Orange,
Aswad,
Warren Ellis,
Suburban Knight,
Con Funk Shun,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Litter,
Kayak,
Oneida,
Rosa Yemen,
Minny Pops,
Faust,
Vladislav Delay,
Cheater Slicks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Suicide,
Peter and Kerry,
Dawn Penn,
The Invisible,
Tim Buckley,
Newcleus,
The Monochrome Set,
Donald Byrd,
Blossom Toes,
Rekid,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ponytail,
David McCallum,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ohio Players,
Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith.
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.