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 Palau and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Cal Tjader to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Wasted Youth,
Johnny Clarke,
Deadbeat,
the Normal,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rapeman,
Roger Hodgson,
Jacques Brel,
Boredoms,
the Association,
Dual Sessions,
Blossom Toes,
Sam Rivers,
Funkadelic,
Icehouse,
The New Christs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tears for Fears,
Intrusion,
Thee Headcoats,
Sonny Sharrock,
Quantec,
This Heat,
The Fall,
Masters at Work,
The Gories,
Newcleus,
Robert Görl,
John Coltrane,
Shoche,
Simply Red,
Gabor Szabo,
Gang Starr,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Outsiders,
Reagan Youth,
Jeff Mills,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marmalade,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
John Lydon,
Bush Tetras,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Malaria!,
D'Angelo,
Gichy Dan,
The Busters,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
48th St. Collective,
the Bar-Kays,
Curtis Mayfield,
These Immortal Souls,
Byron Stingily,
The Skatalites,
Ralphi Rosario,
Stetsasonic,
China Crisis,
X-101,
The Red Krayola,
Wally Richardson,
Scion,
the Fania All-Stars,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.