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 Salvador.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 organ 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 Eve St. Jones to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
LL Cool J,
Bluetip,
Big Daddy Kane,
John Lydon,
The Offenders,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rekid,
Connie Case,
Nas,
Mars,
Quando Quango,
Derrick May,
Malaria!,
Brand Nubian,
Index,
Jerry's Kids,
The Dead C,
Bill Near,
Public Enemy,
June of 44,
The Knickerbockers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Dennis Brown,
Lalann,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Birthday Party,
Sam Rivers,
Arcadia,
Saccharine Trust,
The Alarm Clocks,
One Last Wish,
Black Sheep,
Jacques Brel,
New Age Steppers,
Tubeway Army,
Shuggie Otis,
Blake Baxter,
Chris & Cosey,
Pere Ubu,
Minnie Riperton,
Moebius,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Goldenarms,
Kevin Saunderson,
Adolescents,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Heaven 17,
Moby Grape,
Sixth Finger,
Second Layer,
Motorama,
Lalo Schifrin,
Urselle,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Last Poets,
Althea and Donna,
Black Bananas,
The Fortunes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Monochrome Set,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.