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 Montenegro and from Mexico City.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 organ 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 Gil Scott Heron to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band 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 linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Electric Prunes,
the Slits,
Faraquet,
Sister Nancy,
Boredoms,
The Sound,
Gastr Del Sol,
Con Funk Shun,
Mary Jane Girls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Todd Terry,
Malaria!,
Eurythmics,
Soulsonic Force,
The Beau Brummels,
Scott Walker,
Dual Sessions,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Isaac Hayes,
Shoche,
This Heat,
Alphaville,
The Techniques,
48th St. Collective,
ABBA,
Ornette Coleman,
The Associates,
John Coltrane,
Au Pairs,
Supertramp,
The Mojo Men,
Banda Bassotti,
Rhythm & Sound,
Alton Ellis,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Subhumans,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mandrill,
Public Enemy,
Brass Construction,
Rites of Spring,
Deadbeat,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Normal,
Yazoo,
Rufus Thomas,
Audionom,
Wolf Eyes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lalann,
Crooked Eye,
F. McDonald,
Accadde A,
Man Eating Sloth,
Buzzcocks,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.