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 Russia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy Collins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Blues Magoos,
Brass Construction,
Jacques Brel,
Tres Demented,
The Happenings,
LL Cool J,
Eric Copeland,
The Black Dice,
Graham Central Station,
the Soft Cell,
Sixth Finger,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pharoah Sanders,
Man Eating Sloth,
Average White Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Organ,
The Music Machine,
Mandrill,
Hasil Adkins,
Con Funk Shun,
Eric Dolphy,
Amon Düül II,
Franke,
E-Dancer,
Young Marble Giants,
Dennis Brown,
Rufus Thomas,
Connie Case,
David McCallum,
Mantronix,
Arthur Verocai,
The Fuzztones,
Don Cherry,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Television Personalities,
Neil Young,
Nils Olav,
Faraquet,
Quadrant,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Divine Comedy,
Tomorrow,
Letta Mbulu,
Jesper Dahlback,
Swell Maps,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Eden Ahbez,
Patti Smith,
Tim Buckley,
Andrew Hill,
Circle Jerks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Moleskins,
Carl Craig,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Danielle Patucci,
Little Man,
The Slits,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.