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 Chad and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Con Funk Shun,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Toasters,
Neu!,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Procol Harum,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bad Manners,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Susan Cadogan,
Wolf Eyes,
Camouflage,
Ossler,
Nik Kershaw,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Albert Ayler,
Lou Christie,
Bobby Womack,
Harry Pussy,
Quando Quango,
The Selecter,
The Modern Lovers,
Deadbeat,
Althea and Donna,
Los Fastidios,
Dawn Penn,
Steve Hackett,
OOIOO,
Marvin Gaye,
Kevin Saunderson,
Henry Cow,
John Holt,
Tim Buckley,
Vainqueur,
Babytalk,
The Kinks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Slave,
Robert Hood,
K-Klass,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Associates,
Bob Dylan,
The United States of America,
Max Romeo,
Rufus Thomas,
Mandrill,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Tremeloes,
Blancmange,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Minny Pops,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Connie Case,
Crime,
In Retrospect,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sam Rivers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.