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 Egypt and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Sexual Harrassment to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ultra Naté,
Tres Demented,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Vladislav Delay,
Bizarre Inc.,
Curtis Mayfield,
Radiopuhelimet,
Von Mondo,
The Shadows of Knight,
June of 44,
The Trojans,
Michelle Simonal,
Chris Corsano,
the Sonics,
Jeff Lynne,
Lucky Dragons,
Joey Negro,
the Swans,
Kenny Larkin,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lyres,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ultravox,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Big Daddy Kane,
Brothers Johnson,
Eurythmics,
The Gap Band,
Oneida,
Metal Thangz,
Brass Construction,
Funky Four + One,
James White and The Blacks,
Con Funk Shun,
Surgeon,
The Smoke,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lou Reed,
Marcia Griffiths,
T. Rex,
Rapeman,
This Heat,
Harmonia,
Rakim,
Barbara Tucker,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Standells,
Camberwell Now,
Matthew Halsall,
Ornette Coleman,
Average White Band,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Swell Maps,
Second Layer,
Eve St. Jones,
Maurizio,
Bluetip,
Joe Finger,
Underground Resistance,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.