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 Serbia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Kinks to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
kango's stein massive,
Liliput,
Grandmaster Flash,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pussy Galore,
Animal Collective,
Sound Behaviour,
Rapeman,
E-Dancer,
The Residents,
Flash Fearless,
Minnie Riperton,
Suburban Knight,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Cabaret Voltaire,
ABC,
The American Breed,
Bizarre Inc.,
Aloha Tigers,
X-Ray Spex,
Tim Buckley,
Make Up,
Cecil Taylor,
Schoolly D,
Camouflage,
The Cowsills,
Swans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Max Romeo,
The Last Poets,
Moebius,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Delon & Dalcan,
Radio Birdman,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Robert Wyatt,
New York Dolls,
Shuggie Otis,
Pagans,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lindisfarne,
Matthew Halsall,
Radiopuhelimet,
This Heat,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Q65,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lightning Bolt,
T. Rex,
Eric Copeland,
Eden Ahbez,
8 Eyed Spy,
John Lydon,
The Fuzztones,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Divine Comedy,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Gories,
The Motions,
Gerry Rafferty,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.