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 Tajikistan and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the rap 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 Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
B.T. Express,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dawn Penn,
Arthur Verocai,
Yaz,
Rod Modell,
James White and The Blacks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Wasted Youth,
Yellowson,
Mo-Dettes,
The Offenders,
Hashim,
Babytalk,
Sandy B,
The Neon Judgement,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Adolescents,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Blues Magoos,
Sonic Youth,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bill Wells,
X-Ray Spex,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Idris Muhammad,
Johnny Osbourne,
Robert Hood,
Donny Hathaway,
Radiohead,
One Last Wish,
The Gun Club,
Amon Düül II,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sex Pistols,
Metal Thangz,
The Misunderstood,
Sun Ra,
Ken Boothe,
Sarah Menescal,
New Age Steppers,
Maleditus Sound,
Avey Tare,
Siglo XX,
Arcadia,
Kerri Chandler,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Howard Jones,
Pagans,
Kurtis Blow,
The Victims,
the Human League,
Masters at Work,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Excepter,
Nirvana,
Sun City Girls,
The Invisible,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.