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 Uruguay and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the güiro 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Leaves. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Fear,
Bobby Womack,
The Wake,
DJ Style,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mission of Burma,
The Zeros,
Letta Mbulu,
Pharoah Sanders,
ABC,
Joey Negro,
Chris Corsano,
Cybotron,
Big Daddy Kane,
Procol Harum,
Masters at Work,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Aswad,
X-Ray Spex,
Aural Exciters,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Count Five,
Metal Thangz,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Barracudas,
Oblivians,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nico,
Ponytail,
Michelle Simonal,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sight & Sound,
Alton Ellis,
Audionom,
John Holt,
Eddi Front,
Sixth Finger,
Banda Bassotti,
Faust,
Boredoms,
Con Funk Shun,
Yusef Lateef,
Bauhaus,
Bluetip,
Can,
The Velvet Underground,
The Invisible,
The Gap Band,
Ten City,
Negative Approach,
Nation of Ulysses,
Infiniti,
Yaz,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dawn Penn,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bush Tetras,
Minny Pops,
Stereo Dub,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.