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 Afghanistan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the rock 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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
EPMD,
Freddie Wadling,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Von Mondo,
Eve St. Jones,
Connie Case,
Ossler,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Godley & Creme,
Peter and Kerry,
Piero Umiliani,
the Normal,
Derrick Morgan,
Khruangbin,
The Index,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Kurtis Blow,
the Swans,
Mo-Dettes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Arab on Radar,
Terrestrial Tones,
Boz Scaggs,
Scratch Acid,
Slave,
Thee Headcoats,
Shuggie Otis,
The Fire Engines,
Rod Modell,
Bobby Byrd,
Delta 5,
Nils Olav,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Black Dice,
Sun City Girls,
Fat Boys,
Icehouse,
The Monks,
Black Flag,
Siglo XX,
Dead Boys,
The Stooges,
Black Pus,
Derrick May,
Sandy B,
Soulsonic Force,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Shadows of Knight,
Funky Four + One,
Eden Ahbez,
Patti Smith,
Crispian St. Peters,
Urselle,
Harpers Bizarre,
Symarip,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jesper Dahlback,
Juan Atkins,
Gichy Dan,
Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith.
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.