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 Benin and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Cal Tjader to the grunge 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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Roy Ayers,
Section 25,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mo-Dettes,
Marc Almond,
Adolescents,
Magma,
Half Japanese,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Knickerbockers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pole,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Durutti Column,
Lalo Schifrin,
Darondo,
Hasil Adkins,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Silicon Teens,
Ituana,
Gabor Szabo,
In Retrospect,
Faust,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Babytalk,
Sight & Sound,
48th St. Collective,
Moebius,
DNA,
John Lydon,
The Blackbyrds,
Skriet,
Alison Limerick,
Little Man,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Mummies,
Slave,
DJ Sneak,
Sound Behaviour,
The Grass Roots,
Barbara Tucker,
Fear,
Sarah Menescal,
Scott Walker,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Althea and Donna,
The Velvet Underground,
The Slits,
New Order,
Cecil Taylor,
The Fire Engines,
the Fania All-Stars,
Patti Smith,
Soul II Soul,
The Beau Brummels,
Monolake,
John Coltrane,
Ultra Naté,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.