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 Equatorial Guinea and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 D'Angelo to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Knickerbockers,
Bill Near,
The Barracudas,
Sex Pistols,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Happenings,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Johnny Clarke,
Mandrill,
The Last Poets,
Donny Hathaway,
H. Thieme,
The Gun Club,
Section 25,
Skriet,
Fela Kuti,
Scientists,
the Germs,
The Young Rascals,
Masters at Work,
The Angels of Light,
Judy Mowatt,
Bang On A Can,
Suicide,
Eli Mardock,
Main Source,
The Grass Roots,
The Sound,
The Toasters,
Gang Green,
David Bowie,
Spandau Ballet,
Danielle Patucci,
Aural Exciters,
The Remains,
Tim Buckley,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Black Pus,
Joe Smooth,
Jawbox,
New Age Steppers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gichy Dan,
Bauhaus,
Mission of Burma,
The Red Krayola,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tears for Fears,
Vainqueur,
The Music Machine,
B.T. Express,
The Mummies,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Skatalites,
Andrew Hill,
Guru Guru,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rosa Yemen,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.