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 Latvia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Chris Corsano to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
Janne Schatter,
Faust,
The Seeds,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pantytec,
Matthew Bourne,
Pagans,
Lyres,
Moebius,
A Certain Ratio,
Yusef Lateef,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Monochrome Set,
Terry Callier,
Pulsallama,
James White and The Blacks,
The Fugs,
8 Eyed Spy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Monolake,
Deakin,
The United States of America,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lou Christie,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
David Bowie,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Blancmange,
Morten Harket,
Kerri Chandler,
the Swans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Susan Cadogan,
Grandmaster Flash,
Joy Division,
Prince Buster,
Motorama,
Make Up,
The Velvet Underground,
Ken Boothe,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Chrome,
Danielle Patucci,
Dennis Brown,
Country Teasers,
Little Man,
Arcadia,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gang Green,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Scientists,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nation of Ulysses,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Black Moon,
The Real Kids,
Joyce Sims,
Kas Product,
Piero Umiliani,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.