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 Finland and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Godley & Creme to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan 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 linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Sam Rivers,
The Cowsills,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sonny Sharrock,
Banda Bassotti,
Joey Negro,
Faust,
Young Marble Giants,
Ultra Naté,
Lucky Dragons,
Andrew Hill,
Cluster,
The Gories,
Bill Wells,
Au Pairs,
Cal Tjader,
ABBA,
Ken Boothe,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Reuben Wilson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Aural Exciters,
Franke,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Metal Thangz,
Skaos,
Sex Pistols,
Mission of Burma,
Y Pants,
Glambeats Corp.,
T. Rex,
Black Moon,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Chris & Cosey,
The Fugs,
Rakim,
Little Man,
Minutemen,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Smoke,
Toni Rubio,
Ronnie Foster,
The Slits,
Roy Ayers,
Moby Grape,
Aaron Thompson,
One Last Wish,
the Slits,
Agitation Free,
Altered Images,
Jimmy McGriff,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Whodini,
Drexciya,
Blossom Toes,
CMW,
Moebius,
Tubeway Army,
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.