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 Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Motions to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Sister Nancy,
Tom Boy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Man Parrish,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
T.S.O.L.,
Shuggie Otis,
Public Enemy,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Buckinghams,
Absolute Body Control,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Fire Engines,
Heaven 17,
The Grass Roots,
Rekid,
Zapp,
DJ Sneak,
The Happenings,
Sixth Finger,
Dark Day,
Inner City,
Eurythmics,
Funkadelic,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Niagra,
Graham Central Station,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Doobie Brothers,
Theoretical Girls,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Boz Scaggs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sight & Sound,
Cluster,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wally Richardson,
Nick Fraelich,
Charles Mingus,
Aswad,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jawbox,
Index,
The Knickerbockers,
The Gladiators,
Q65,
Bobby Womack,
Sugar Minott,
The Kinks,
The United States of America,
Yusef Lateef,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Flamin' Groovies,
Blossom Toes,
Fear,
Eden Ahbez,
Radio Birdman,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Aaron Thompson,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.