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 Kenya and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the guitar 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 E-Dancer to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Age Steppers 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 sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Con Funk Shun,
Oblivians,
Mr. Review,
B.T. Express,
the Human League,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
UT,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Harry Pussy,
The Red Krayola,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
D'Angelo,
Maleditus Sound,
Soft Machine,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bang On A Can,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sister Nancy,
T. Rex,
Brothers Johnson,
Piero Umiliani,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Echospace,
The Saints,
Eric B and Rakim,
Wings,
Lee Hazlewood,
LL Cool J,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Roxy Music,
One Last Wish,
Bush Tetras,
Barbara Tucker,
The Barracudas,
The Doors,
The Toasters,
Albert Ayler,
Urselle,
Malaria!,
DJ Sneak,
Moby Grape,
Grey Daturas,
MDC,
Derrick May,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
H. Thieme,
Swans,
Scratch Acid,
Banda Bassotti,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Whodini,
Average White Band,
Deakin,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gabor Szabo,
The Monks,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.