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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lindisfarne 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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mary Jane Girls,
Aloha Tigers,
Maurizio,
The Smoke,
Nik Kershaw,
Thee Headcoats,
Altered Images,
The Last Poets,
Roxy Music,
Scan 7,
Lungfish,
A Certain Ratio,
Brick,
Rod Modell,
Zapp,
Pussy Galore,
The Buckinghams,
Ice-T,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lindisfarne,
The Pop Group,
Rakim,
Symarip,
Organ,
World's Most,
Rufus Thomas,
Second Layer,
The Neon Judgement,
Juan Atkins,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jacques Brel,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Crooked Eye,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
H. Thieme,
Moss Icon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Deepchord,
Black Sheep,
the Soft Cell,
The Modern Lovers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Malaria!,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Stereo Dub,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
X-Ray Spex,
The Count Five,
the Fania All-Stars,
Erykah Badu,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ralphi Rosario,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jerry's Kids,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.