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 United Kingdom and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Minnie Riperton to the rap 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 Funkadelic. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bobby Sherman,
10cc,
The Associates,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Dave Clark Five,
Panda Bear,
The Blues Magoos,
Mandrill,
Cybotron,
Thee Headcoats,
Technova,
Jeff Lynne,
Adolescents,
48th St. Collective,
Brass Construction,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Man Parrish,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Faraquet,
The Shadows of Knight,
Make Up,
Jeff Mills,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joensuu 1685,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Offenders,
Piero Umiliani,
The Knickerbockers,
Eddi Front,
Sandy B,
Sun City Girls,
Joyce Sims,
The Doobie Brothers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Harmonia,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nico,
New Age Steppers,
the Bar-Kays,
The Red Krayola,
Funky Four + One,
Television Personalities,
Kas Product,
X-101,
The Five Americans,
Babytalk,
Gang of Four,
Ludus,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bluetip,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Durutti Column,
The United States of America,
Davy DMX,
Marine Girls,
Danielle Patucci,
Sex Pistols,
Rufus Thomas,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.