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 Palau and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 rhodes 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 Robert Wyatt to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Lou Reed,
Black Pus,
Fat Boys,
Reagan Youth,
The Wake,
Echospace,
Bad Manners,
the Slits,
Panda Bear,
Agent Orange,
Grandmaster Flash,
Idris Muhammad,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pere Ubu,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Association,
Y Pants,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Germs,
R.M.O.,
The Monks,
Graham Central Station,
Masters at Work,
Kevin Saunderson,
Crime,
The Last Poets,
Unrelated Segments,
Frankie Knuckles,
Average White Band,
Fugazi,
David Bowie,
The Tremeloes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Youth Brigade,
Janne Schatter,
Japan,
Johnny Clarke,
Subhumans,
F. McDonald,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rod Modell,
Delta 5,
Banda Bassotti,
Judy Mowatt,
Television Personalities,
Rites of Spring,
Fatback Band,
Derrick Morgan,
Scrapy,
Royal Trux,
FM Einheit,
Dual Sessions,
The Fugs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Groovy Waters,
Suburban Knight,
Ornette Coleman,
Pet Shop Boys,
Danielle Patucci,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Silicon Teens,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.