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 Mauritius and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Porter Ricks to the jazz 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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
The Fugs,
Rosa Yemen,
The Golliwogs,
Kerrie Biddell,
Delta 5,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Modern Lovers,
The Associates,
Jawbox,
Tropical Tobacco,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mantronix,
Fugazi,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Donald Byrd,
Barrington Levy,
Desert Stars,
Crispy Ambulance,
Soul II Soul,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Suicide,
Newcleus,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tom Boy,
Bob Dylan,
The Young Rascals,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Germs,
The Angels of Light,
Hoover,
Stereo Dub,
Eli Mardock,
Ralphi Rosario,
Funkadelic,
Howard Jones,
Icehouse,
EPMD,
Roy Ayers,
The Moody Blues,
The Blues Magoos,
Eve St. Jones,
The Move,
Sandy B,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Tremeloes,
Smog,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Nico,
Minnie Riperton,
Marshall Jefferson,
Blake Baxter,
Deadbeat,
FM Einheit,
Pulsallama,
Boz Scaggs,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.