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 Tanzania and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Jacques Brel 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Severed Heads,
Wings,
Loose Ends,
The Moody Blues,
Boredoms,
Sam Rivers,
Infiniti,
Tears for Fears,
Black Bananas,
H. Thieme,
Hasil Adkins,
Swans,
Buzzcocks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gichy Dan,
Shoche,
LL Cool J,
Blancmange,
John Coltrane,
Panda Bear,
Josef K,
Maleditus Sound,
Terry Callier,
The Walker Brothers,
Dorothy Ashby,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Zero Boys,
Aaron Thompson,
Jeff Mills,
Pierre Henry,
Crispian St. Peters,
Liliput,
Roger Hodgson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Saccharine Trust,
UT,
Sonic Youth,
Robert Hood,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lindisfarne,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Derrick Morgan,
The Motions,
Alton Ellis,
48th St. Collective,
The Fuzztones,
Brass Construction,
Quantec,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Dennis Brown,
Eric Dolphy,
The Electric Prunes,
The Fall,
Scott Walker,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Brick,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.