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 Qatar and from Johannesburg.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Urselle to the jazz 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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Fela Kuti,
John Lydon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Gastr Del Sol,
John Coltrane,
10cc,
the Bar-Kays,
Pierre Henry,
Bad Manners,
Gong,
Moss Icon,
Roy Ayers,
ABBA,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Q and Not U,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jacques Brel,
Crispy Ambulance,
Curtis Mayfield,
Qualms,
Lower 48,
the Association,
Eli Mardock,
Desert Stars,
the Germs,
Matthew Halsall,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tears for Fears,
Jacob Miller,
Susan Cadogan,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sexual Harrassment,
Smog,
Jerry's Kids,
Blancmange,
Michelle Simonal,
Terry Callier,
Pagans,
Althea and Donna,
Ultra Naté,
Soft Cell,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rod Modell,
The Busters,
Lalann,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gregory Isaacs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rites of Spring,
Janne Schatter,
The Searchers,
Ice-T,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Man Parrish,
The Flesh Eaters,
China Crisis,
The J.B.'s,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.