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 Kosovo and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manila.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Bill Wells to the crunk 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Godley & Creme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Stereo Dub,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
EPMD,
Man Parrish,
Bootsy Collins,
Judy Mowatt,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Desert Stars,
Robert Görl,
Technova,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nik Kershaw,
Eric Dolphy,
DNA,
Saccharine Trust,
Skaos,
The Toasters,
The Fuzztones,
The Walker Brothers,
Agitation Free,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Terrestrial Tones,
Oneida,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Hoover,
Laurel Aitken,
The American Breed,
Fluxion,
K-Klass,
Prince Buster,
Brothers Johnson,
Cecil Taylor,
The New Christs,
ABBA,
Lakeside,
Erasure,
Eurythmics,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Agent Orange,
Deakin,
The Litter,
Fatback Band,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Flesh Eaters,
Connie Case,
Fad Gadget,
The Selecter,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Radio Birdman,
Dorothy Ashby,
Joy Division,
Colin Newman,
Reuben Wilson,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fat Boys,
The Angels of Light,
La Düsseldorf,
Faraquet,
Whodini,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.