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 Belgium and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Monks,
David Axelrod,
The Seeds,
Los Fastidios,
John Holt,
Blake Baxter,
Tomorrow,
Ohio Players,
Echospace,
Kerri Chandler,
Freddie Wadling,
The Divine Comedy,
the Slits,
Saccharine Trust,
Suicide,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Supertramp,
Donald Byrd,
Fad Gadget,
The Golliwogs,
Essential Logic,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
OOIOO,
Average White Band,
Make Up,
The Leaves,
Moss Icon,
Marc Almond,
Yusef Lateef,
Anakelly,
The Move,
Delon & Dalcan,
In Retrospect,
Janne Schatter,
Depeche Mode,
Silicon Teens,
Excepter,
Wire,
E-Dancer,
The Velvet Underground,
The Blues Magoos,
T. Rex,
Bang On A Can,
Howard Jones,
James White and The Blacks,
Grauzone,
Alison Limerick,
Arab on Radar,
Slick Rick,
The United States of America,
The Detroit Cobras,
Barbara Tucker,
Minor Threat,
Byron Stingily,
Guru Guru,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Chris & Cosey,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Vainqueur,
Pulsallama,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.