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 Cameroon and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Delta 5. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-102 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?
Index,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gastr Del Sol,
Intrusion,
Throbbing Gristle,
Reuben Wilson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Oblivians,
The Black Dice,
World's Most,
Black Flag,
Pantaleimon,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Eric Copeland,
Basic Channel,
The Saints,
The Move,
Blancmange,
John Coltrane,
The Real Kids,
The Walker Brothers,
The Young Rascals,
Chrome,
Junior Murvin,
Fear,
Jacob Miller,
The Victims,
DJ Sneak,
the Association,
Altered Images,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Brothers Johnson,
Davy DMX,
Jandek,
Reagan Youth,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Electric Prunes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Wake,
Mandrill,
Moss Icon,
Stiv Bators,
Amazonics,
Harpers Bizarre,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Vladislav Delay,
Arthur Verocai,
Aaron Thompson,
Howard Jones,
Donny Hathaway,
The Flesh Eaters,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bill Wells,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nas,
Livin' Joy,
Minnie Riperton,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.