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 Tokyo.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Pop Group to the crunk 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
Bad Manners,
Qualms,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Blackbyrds,
H. Thieme,
Susan Cadogan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sex Pistols,
Severed Heads,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Leaves,
Grey Daturas,
China Crisis,
Funkadelic,
Sun Ra,
Joey Negro,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Danielle Patucci,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Blues Magoos,
Al Stewart,
Talk Talk,
Fluxion,
Boogie Down Productions,
Skriet,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Electric Prunes,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Organ,
Gabor Szabo,
The Motions,
Section 25,
Terry Callier,
The Gun Club,
Buzzcocks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Cymande,
Scott Walker,
Darondo,
The Moody Blues,
Supertramp,
The Cowsills,
Eric Copeland,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Marmalade,
Cameo,
Ronnie Foster,
Moebius,
Ken Boothe,
Robert Hood,
Cheater Slicks,
Eden Ahbez,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ultravox,
Urselle,
Yaz,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Swans,
Kerri Chandler,
Bootsy Collins,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.