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 the UAE and from Houston.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 snare 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 Johnny Clarke 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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David McCallum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Outsiders,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
10cc,
Altered Images,
OOIOO,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tommy Roe,
Gil Scott Heron,
Blancmange,
The Motions,
Bobby Womack,
Fela Kuti,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Tres Demented,
Franke,
Curtis Mayfield,
Derrick Morgan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Black Dice,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Brass Construction,
The Shadows of Knight,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eden Ahbez,
Accadde A,
The Cure,
Cymande,
Electric Light Orchestra,
D'Angelo,
Johnny Osbourne,
Slick Rick,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Charles Mingus,
The Seeds,
Lakeside,
Brothers Johnson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Harry Pussy,
The Blackbyrds,
Quadrant,
Barbara Tucker,
Letta Mbulu,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Radio Birdman,
Godley & Creme,
James White and The Blacks,
Minnie Riperton,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kenny Larkin,
Suicide,
Kerrie Biddell,
Little Man,
Oneida,
The Blues Magoos,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Icehouse,
Joe Smooth,
Blake Baxter,
Crispian St. Peters,
Andrew Hill,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.