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 Dominican Republic and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 clarinet 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 Morten Harket to the dance 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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 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 rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q and Not U,
Public Image Ltd.,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mr. Review,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Terry Callier,
Alice Coltrane,
Amazonics,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Fania All-Stars,
Interpol,
Alison Limerick,
Janne Schatter,
Scrapy,
Freddie Wadling,
Cal Tjader,
Liliput,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Letta Mbulu,
This Heat,
Pagans,
Banda Bassotti,
The Stooges,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Glenn Branca,
Radio Birdman,
The Fire Engines,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Walker Brothers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Niagra,
Wolf Eyes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jerry's Kids,
Television Personalities,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
New Order,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sandy B,
Jeru the Damaja,
Malaria!,
The Barracudas,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Gladiators,
Roy Ayers,
David McCallum,
Ohio Players,
Nirvana,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Young Rascals,
Cheater Slicks,
Tubeway Army,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Soul II Soul,
The Skatalites,
John Holt,
Heaven 17,
Brothers Johnson,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.