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 Botswana and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lalo Schifrin 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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ultra Naté,
Bobby Byrd,
Thompson Twins,
Bobby Sherman,
The Mojo Men,
8 Eyed Spy,
Davy DMX,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jacques Brel,
The Alarm Clocks,
Alton Ellis,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Toasters,
Pierre Henry,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rufus Thomas,
Skarface,
The Sound,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Last Poets,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Joe Smooth,
Blancmange,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Fall,
EPMD,
The Associates,
Jacob Miller,
Byron Stingily,
Young Marble Giants,
T.S.O.L.,
DNA,
Kenny Larkin,
Tubeway Army,
Jerry's Kids,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Moleskins,
The Real Kids,
Mission of Burma,
Funkadelic,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Red Krayola,
The Index,
The Residents,
Boz Scaggs,
AZ,
Spandau Ballet,
Eden Ahbez,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Marshall Jefferson,
Black Pus,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gastr Del Sol,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.