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 Sierra Leone and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Funky Four + One to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers Ubiquity record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
The Skatalites,
Quando Quango,
Monolake,
Pantaleimon,
Youth Brigade,
Robert Wyatt,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rod Modell,
Pantytec,
Scrapy,
Yellowson,
Masters at Work,
John Holt,
Pole,
Chris & Cosey,
Japan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
This Heat,
Sex Pistols,
Yaz,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
June Days,
Vladislav Delay,
Steve Hackett,
Joe Finger,
The Golliwogs,
The Buckinghams,
Arab on Radar,
Organ,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Blossom Toes,
Deakin,
Inner City,
Ponytail,
Cheater Slicks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Count Five,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ohio Players,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gong,
The Monks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Alison Limerick,
Kaleidoscope,
Sun City Girls,
Harmonia,
Excepter,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Mo-Dettes,
Adolescents,
Minnie Riperton,
Byron Stingily,
Absolute Body Control,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eli Mardock,
Amazonics,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.