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 Netherlands and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Eden Ahbez to the crunk 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Josef K,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Aaron Thompson,
Blake Baxter,
Iggy Pop,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
These Immortal Souls,
Pet Shop Boys,
Wally Richardson,
The Seeds,
Jeff Lynne,
Supertramp,
Jeru the Damaja,
John Holt,
Sixth Finger,
Erasure,
Alton Ellis,
the Swans,
The Monochrome Set,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ossler,
Quantec,
Basic Channel,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kenny Larkin,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Walker Brothers,
The Black Dice,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Grass Roots,
World's Most,
Loose Ends,
Jeff Mills,
The Real Kids,
Crispy Ambulance,
The J.B.'s,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sparks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Donald Byrd,
DNA,
Siglo XX,
The Martian,
Monks,
Ludus,
Porter Ricks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Buckinghams,
Technova,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rapeman,
Y Pants,
Janne Schatter,
Jerry's Kids,
The Fortunes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pharoah Sanders,
Little Man,
The Vogues,
Con Funk Shun,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.