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 Hungary and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 organ 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 Yaz to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Crooked Eye,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rosa Yemen,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Erykah Badu,
Scion,
Excepter,
EPMD,
Pagans,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Joey Negro,
Grauzone,
Nirvana,
Stetsasonic,
Popol Vuh,
Moebius,
The Gap Band,
The Blues Magoos,
Laurel Aitken,
Henry Cow,
The Monks,
Mark Hollis,
Dawn Penn,
Roy Ayers,
Danielle Patucci,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Steve Hackett,
Gang of Four,
DJ Sneak,
Procol Harum,
Y Pants,
Rites of Spring,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Hoover,
Bobby Womack,
Pole,
Fluxion,
Sex Pistols,
The Names,
James White and The Blacks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Minny Pops,
Simply Red,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rufus Thomas,
Ohio Players,
Sparks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Zeros,
Delon & Dalcan,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Durutti Column,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sam Rivers,
The Seeds,
Banda Bassotti,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.