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 United Kingdom and from Halifax.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Nils Olav to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
Warsaw,
Crooked Eye,
The Barracudas,
Brand Nubian,
The Gladiators,
Junior Murvin,
Lebanon Hanover,
Roxette,
Porter Ricks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dark Day,
Jeff Lynne,
K-Klass,
Symarip,
Joe Finger,
The Fire Engines,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Hasil Adkins,
Sun City Girls,
the Bar-Kays,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gang Starr,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Von Mondo,
The Remains,
Albert Ayler,
Q65,
Zero Boys,
Judy Mowatt,
Crispian St. Peters,
Boz Scaggs,
Barrington Levy,
Sister Nancy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Khruangbin,
Quantec,
Whodini,
Eric Copeland,
Wire,
Index,
Idris Muhammad,
The Toasters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Nirvana,
New Age Steppers,
Prince Buster,
Marmalade,
H. Thieme,
the Human League,
Metal Thangz,
Aloha Tigers,
Tommy Roe,
Jesper Dahlback,
Arab on Radar,
Laurel Aitken,
Funkadelic,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Todd Rundgren,
Lou Reed,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.