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 Fiji and from Seoul.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 Vladislav Delay 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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande 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 harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
UT,
Bobby Womack,
U.S. Maple,
Eric B and Rakim,
DNA,
Cymande,
The Selecter,
Ohio Players,
Barbara Tucker,
Popol Vuh,
Motorama,
Niagra,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Zeros,
The Techniques,
Anakelly,
Rosa Yemen,
KRS-One,
the Normal,
Dennis Brown,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Can,
The Skatalites,
The Star Department,
Kenny Larkin,
Nico,
10cc,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Soul II Soul,
The Monks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dark Day,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Red Krayola,
New York Dolls,
Oneida,
The Sound,
Susan Cadogan,
Flipper,
Eden Ahbez,
Slave,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nils Olav,
The Detroit Cobras,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Pus,
Flash Fearless,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gichy Dan,
Alton Ellis,
Easy Going,
ABC,
Massinfluence,
Kayak,
Skriet,
Aloha Tigers,
The Saints,
the Soft Cell,
The Stooges,
Half Japanese,
Thee Headcoats,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.