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 Israel and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Archie Shepp to the crunk 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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonny Sharrock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Black Bananas,
Lyres,
The Skatalites,
Joe Smooth,
Pere Ubu,
Graham Central Station,
The Smoke,
Yazoo,
Lakeside,
Gang Gang Dance,
Robert Wyatt,
Terry Callier,
Bob Dylan,
Eden Ahbez,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lower 48,
Skriet,
Johnny Clarke,
Country Teasers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
MC5,
Deepchord,
Dual Sessions,
The Dead C,
The Offenders,
New York Dolls,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bronski Beat,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rites of Spring,
The Moleskins,
Reuben Wilson,
Monolake,
The Selecter,
The Fire Engines,
Sam Rivers,
Clear Light,
Michelle Simonal,
Mandrill,
Darondo,
The Vogues,
Vainqueur,
The Shadows of Knight,
Roxy Music,
Howard Jones,
David Axelrod,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jawbox,
Black Pus,
Nils Olav,
Talk Talk,
The Human League,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ronan,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Judy Mowatt,
F. McDonald,
Black Moon,
E-Dancer,
Von Mondo,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.