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 Nepal and from Calgary.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 mellotron 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the rap 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 Fugs. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Mojo Men,
The Motions,
Funkadelic,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jacob Miller,
Excepter,
Easy Going,
The Move,
the Human League,
The Fall,
Icehouse,
Sound Behaviour,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pussy Galore,
Grauzone,
Buzzcocks,
Fluxion,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Terry Callier,
Matthew Bourne,
James White and The Blacks,
the Sonics,
Alice Coltrane,
Juan Atkins,
Q65,
Clear Light,
New Age Steppers,
Warsaw,
Danielle Patucci,
Loose Ends,
Kurtis Blow,
The Gun Club,
48th St. Collective,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sonny Sharrock,
James Chance & The Contortions,
FM Einheit,
Massinfluence,
Mission of Burma,
Average White Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Marmalade,
Yaz,
The Stooges,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Funky Four + One,
Letta Mbulu,
Parry Music,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eden Ahbez,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pantytec,
Glambeats Corp.,
K-Klass,
Hashim,
Sonic Youth,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.