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 Ukraine and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 oboe 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 Matthew Halsall to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Essential Logic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Excepter,
Negative Approach,
The Busters,
The Velvet Underground,
Man Parrish,
Robert Hood,
The Litter,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Drexciya,
Sparks,
Thompson Twins,
Sandy B,
Bauhaus,
ABBA,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ronan,
Bill Near,
Steve Hackett,
Animal Collective,
the Swans,
DJ Style,
Matthew Halsall,
Organ,
Idris Muhammad,
Harry Pussy,
Lalann,
Pulsallama,
Letta Mbulu,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ultimate Spinach,
Unrelated Segments,
Nico,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mo-Dettes,
Minutemen,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Detroit Cobras,
Iggy Pop,
Audionom,
Y Pants,
Lyres,
Fat Boys,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Quando Quango,
E-Dancer,
Zero Boys,
The Cure,
Yellowson,
Wasted Youth,
Sällskapet,
KRS-One,
Ken Boothe,
Funkadelic,
Byron Stingily,
Albert Ayler,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.