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 Qatar and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Con Funk Shun to the funk 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
The Monochrome Set,
Lyres,
The Toasters,
Marine Girls,
The Angels of Light,
Bush Tetras,
Crash Course in Science,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Monks,
Rapeman,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sex Pistols,
Bobby Womack,
Banda Bassotti,
Vainqueur,
The Gladiators,
Radiohead,
Susan Cadogan,
Khruangbin,
John Lydon,
Bang On A Can,
Stiv Bators,
The Techniques,
KRS-One,
In Retrospect,
Prince Buster,
Big Daddy Kane,
Aswad,
Saccharine Trust,
Mr. Review,
X-102,
Joensuu 1685,
MC5,
Sugar Minott,
The Sonics,
The Zeros,
Harmonia,
Babytalk,
Jeff Lynne,
H. Thieme,
Minor Threat,
Scrapy,
Model 500,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Tom Boy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Freddie Wadling,
Robert Hood,
A Certain Ratio,
DNA,
Bad Manners,
Suburban Knight,
The Moody Blues,
Ten City,
Althea and Donna,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Last Poets,
The Gories,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band.
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.