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 Comoros and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Shanghai.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Wally Richardson 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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Young Marble Giants,
Erykah Badu,
Oneida,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Selecter,
The Gladiators,
Crash Course in Science,
FM Einheit,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Bar-Kays,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Scan 7,
Harmonia,
Lightning Bolt,
Slick Rick,
Can,
Donald Byrd,
Iggy Pop,
Ronan,
Hot Snakes,
The Barracudas,
Gastr Del Sol,
Mad Mike,
Eve St. Jones,
Glambeats Corp.,
Aloha Tigers,
Boz Scaggs,
Arcadia,
Qualms,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Misunderstood,
Maleditus Sound,
Grauzone,
Isaac Hayes,
Franke,
Bang On A Can,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Juan Atkins,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Surgeon,
Alice Coltrane,
Public Enemy,
Banda Bassotti,
The Angels of Light,
Country Teasers,
The Monks,
Pole,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Leonard Cohen,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Electric Prunes,
Byron Stingily,
Icehouse,
Outsiders,
Lakeside,
The Names,
Silicon Teens,
Little Man,
Black Flag,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.