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 Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Copenhagen.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Q and Not U to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Saints,
Yusef Lateef,
Reagan Youth,
David Axelrod,
Mantronix,
Nirvana,
The Smoke,
Sugar Minott,
Amon Düül II,
The Raincoats,
Scion,
DJ Style,
Mr. Review,
Marvin Gaye,
Letta Mbulu,
the Normal,
Man Parrish,
The Fortunes,
Bobby Byrd,
Jeff Mills,
PIL,
Blancmange,
Subhumans,
Godley & Creme,
Al Stewart,
Roxy Music,
The J.B.'s,
Albert Ayler,
Graham Central Station,
Eric B and Rakim,
Mandrill,
H. Thieme,
Ornette Coleman,
The Remains,
The Flesh Eaters,
Make Up,
Loose Ends,
The Happenings,
Second Layer,
Warsaw,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pantytec,
The Searchers,
Boredoms,
The Trojans,
Lou Reed,
Lou Christie,
The Stooges,
The Modern Lovers,
Bush Tetras,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eurythmics,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ken Boothe,
FM Einheit,
Andrew Hill,
Tubeway Army,
Suburban Knight,
Porter Ricks,
Kaleidoscope,
Delta 5,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.