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 Vietnam and from Mumbai.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 marimba 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 Bob Dylan to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
The Walker Brothers,
The Gap Band,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Man Parrish,
Blossom Toes,
Anakelly,
Ultra Naté,
Neu!,
Stockholm Monsters,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Oblivians,
Donny Hathaway,
Bang On A Can,
Marshall Jefferson,
Thee Headcoats,
The Detroit Cobras,
John Coltrane,
Kurtis Blow,
Gang Green,
The Tremeloes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dead Boys,
Joyce Sims,
The Fortunes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
X-102,
Amazonics,
Zapp,
Traffic Nightmare,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Drexciya,
Jeff Mills,
Gichy Dan,
Y Pants,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gerry Rafferty,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Radiohead,
Nico,
Hardrive,
Cecil Taylor,
Warsaw,
John Holt,
the Bar-Kays,
New York Dolls,
Skriet,
Black Sheep,
Nick Fraelich,
Rotary Connection,
Echospace,
Erasure,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
LL Cool J,
Eddi Front,
The Misunderstood,
Mark Hollis,
Television,
The Doors,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.