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 Chad and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 arpeggiator 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 The Last Poets to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moss Icon,
Cal Tjader,
Fat Boys,
Charles Mingus,
Barbara Tucker,
The Buckinghams,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Searchers,
Angry Samoans,
Parry Music,
Scrapy,
OOIOO,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Althea and Donna,
Connie Case,
Janne Schatter,
Q and Not U,
Agent Orange,
Donny Hathaway,
Black Sheep,
F. McDonald,
Crooked Eye,
Los Fastidios,
Deadbeat,
Circle Jerks,
Toni Rubio,
The Red Krayola,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Cramps,
Cecil Taylor,
Young Marble Giants,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nas,
Idris Muhammad,
Cluster,
The Busters,
Nils Olav,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Doors,
Tim Buckley,
KRS-One,
The Music Machine,
Banda Bassotti,
Gregory Isaacs,
Vladislav Delay,
Schoolly D,
Boz Scaggs,
Unrelated Segments,
Little Man,
The Count Five,
The Index,
Crispian St. Peters,
Echospace,
Lou Christie,
Funky Four + One,
Roy Ayers,
Quadrant,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
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.