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 Malta and from Accra.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 rhodes 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 Boogie Down Productions to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Leonard Cohen,
Mars,
The Dead C,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bootsy Collins,
Juan Atkins,
The Doors,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Standells,
Jacob Miller,
Gang Starr,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Black Moon,
B.T. Express,
Heaven 17,
John Coltrane,
The Young Rascals,
The Monks,
Arab on Radar,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Raincoats,
Slick Rick,
Roxette,
Eurythmics,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Invisible,
Slave,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Star Department,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sam Rivers,
The Knickerbockers,
Nirvana,
Albert Ayler,
Ultra Naté,
June of 44,
Monolake,
Gabor Szabo,
David Bowie,
Rufus Thomas,
Porter Ricks,
Josef K,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Motorama,
Mantronix,
Gerry Rafferty,
Shuggie Otis,
Scrapy,
David McCallum,
X-102,
Oneida,
The Stooges,
Judy Mowatt,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Peter and Kerry,
Aaron Thompson,
Cymande,
Rosa Yemen,
Sound Behaviour,
Can,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity.
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.