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 Japan and from Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 spring reverb 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Skarface. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a It's A Beautiful Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Ludus,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Saccharine Trust,
The Doors,
The Neon Judgement,
Zero Boys,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Excepter,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sonny Sharrock,
Severed Heads,
Pantytec,
Man Parrish,
The Vogues,
The Trojans,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kerrie Biddell,
Animal Collective,
Bobby Byrd,
Funky Four + One,
Deepchord,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Victims,
AZ,
L. Decosne,
K-Klass,
Wasted Youth,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sällskapet,
Nik Kershaw,
Cymande,
Icehouse,
Barbara Tucker,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Angry Samoans,
Rotary Connection,
Tim Buckley,
The Monochrome Set,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Tres Demented,
The Names,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Simply Red,
Warren Ellis,
Skarface,
Freddie Wadling,
Hoover,
In Retrospect,
Fatback Band,
Gichy Dan,
These Immortal Souls,
Minny Pops,
Black Sheep,
Judy Mowatt,
June of 44,
Hashim,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nils Olav,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.