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 Iraq and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 güiro 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 Erykah Badu to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q and Not U record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rosa Yemen,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Magma,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
ABC,
Warren Ellis,
Flash Fearless,
Sex Pistols,
Monolake,
Cybotron,
Das Ding,
The Busters,
Newcleus,
Drexciya,
Ponytail,
Kaleidoscope,
Yellowson,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Skatalites,
Black Pus,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Model 500,
Con Funk Shun,
Mandrill,
Ten City,
Visage,
Stetsasonic,
The Mojo Men,
The Cosmic Jokers,
UT,
Gil Scott Heron,
Chris & Cosey,
T.S.O.L.,
Skaos,
the Slits,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
MC5,
Cal Tjader,
Sonic Youth,
Magazine,
the Soft Cell,
EPMD,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Malaria!,
Country Joe & The Fish,
DJ Sneak,
Bobby Sherman,
Flipper,
The United States of America,
Sound Behaviour,
David Axelrod,
Skriet,
Archie Shepp,
The Evens,
Chrome,
Lakeside,
Joey Negro,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.