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 Seychelles and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ornette Coleman to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
Babytalk,
James White and The Blacks,
Suburban Knight,
Hoover,
The Tremeloes,
Basic Channel,
Oneida,
the Sonics,
The Monks,
Bobby Womack,
Eric Dolphy,
Procol Harum,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wolf Eyes,
Supertramp,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Junior Murvin,
Fugazi,
Roxette,
Toni Rubio,
T. Rex,
Eden Ahbez,
Howard Jones,
Joey Negro,
AZ,
Q and Not U,
World's Most,
Davy DMX,
The Names,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Malaria!,
FM Einheit,
Clear Light,
Soul II Soul,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
New York Dolls,
Mad Mike,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sparks,
Godley & Creme,
Brothers Johnson,
Scratch Acid,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lucky Dragons,
The Human League,
The Leaves,
Idris Muhammad,
Country Teasers,
X-Ray Spex,
Swell Maps,
The Slackers,
The Offenders,
Laurel Aitken,
Sun City Girls,
Franke,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Stetsasonic,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Motorama,
David Axelrod,
Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland.
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.