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 Micronesia and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manchester.
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 güiro 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 Shoche to the dance 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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Boredoms,
Rotary Connection,
Main Source,
The Gap Band,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Grass Roots,
John Holt,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Can,
Kool Moe Dee,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Spandau Ballet,
Buzzcocks,
Malaria!,
Banda Bassotti,
Marine Girls,
Aaron Thompson,
Severed Heads,
Dawn Penn,
Sex Pistols,
Jeff Lynne,
Chris Corsano,
Juan Atkins,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Qualms,
Gregory Isaacs,
Mark Hollis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Danielle Patucci,
Nico,
Marmalade,
Flash Fearless,
Pere Ubu,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fugazi,
These Immortal Souls,
Sugar Minott,
Ultra Naté,
Quantec,
Thompson Twins,
UT,
The Music Machine,
The Wake,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Organ,
The Remains,
Deadbeat,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Alphaville,
Lyres,
Nation of Ulysses,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fela Kuti,
Blancmange,
DNA,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Five Americans,
Colin Newman,
Marvin Gaye,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.