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 El Salvador and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Donald Fagen 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 Ralphi Rosario to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Tomorrow,
Judy Mowatt,
Pulsallama,
Al Stewart,
Rites of Spring,
Icehouse,
Cymande,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Fortunes,
Dead Boys,
Japan,
Ludus,
The Selecter,
Chris & Cosey,
Sight & Sound,
U.S. Maple,
The Vogues,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Hoover,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Chris Corsano,
The Mojo Men,
Tom Boy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Flash Fearless,
Rakim,
Royal Trux,
Infiniti,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Drexciya,
The Offenders,
the Sonics,
Sun City Girls,
Wolf Eyes,
Suburban Knight,
Freddie Wadling,
Neu!,
48th St. Collective,
Arab on Radar,
Section 25,
Gang of Four,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
ABBA,
UT,
Slave,
Cecil Taylor,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Harpers Bizarre,
F. McDonald,
Soft Machine,
Bobby Womack,
Qualms,
Deakin,
Pole,
The Beau Brummels,
Fad Gadget,
Sam Rivers,
The Misunderstood,
Skarface,
Bluetip,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.