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 Burundi and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 David Axelrod to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Fatback Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Brothers Johnson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Aural Exciters,
Alice Coltrane,
Sällskapet,
MDC,
Slick Rick,
Nas,
Blake Baxter,
The Misunderstood,
Eric B and Rakim,
Wasted Youth,
Judy Mowatt,
Monks,
Mantronix,
The Saints,
Deepchord,
Hasil Adkins,
Infiniti,
Jandek,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pharoah Sanders,
Drexciya,
The Pretty Things,
John Foxx,
Marine Girls,
Amon Düül,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Don Cherry,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sandy B,
Heaven 17,
Aloha Tigers,
The Moody Blues,
Max Romeo,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Soft Cell,
Sam Rivers,
Spandau Ballet,
Swans,
Minny Pops,
Joe Finger,
K-Klass,
Altered Images,
Average White Band,
Icehouse,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Divine Comedy,
Donald Byrd,
L. Decosne,
Second Layer,
the Sonics,
The Vogues,
Darondo,
Erykah Badu,
James White and The Blacks,
Suburban Knight,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.