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 Romania and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Yaz,
Hashim,
Blossom Toes,
Susan Cadogan,
DJ Style,
The United States of America,
Bill Wells,
Henry Cow,
Hasil Adkins,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Excepter,
Minnie Riperton,
the Bar-Kays,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Joensuu 1685,
Porter Ricks,
Eric Copeland,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lightning Bolt,
Severed Heads,
Monolake,
Rakim,
Pole,
Trumans Water,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rekid,
Bobby Byrd,
MDC,
Pussy Galore,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bootsy Collins,
Icehouse,
Mantronix,
Lou Reed,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Grauzone,
Aaron Thompson,
Letta Mbulu,
Wings,
Rufus Thomas,
Gong,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gerry Rafferty,
Tears for Fears,
Rapeman,
Mandrill,
The Martian,
The Angels of Light,
Tomorrow,
Jimmy McGriff,
Roxy Music,
Radio Birdman,
Tim Buckley,
Steve Hackett,
The Raincoats,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Max Romeo,
The Gap Band,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.