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 Kenya and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Radio Birdman to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick Morgan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
Crooked Eye,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rod Modell,
Stetsasonic,
June of 44,
The Gun Club,
Minny Pops,
Warsaw,
Roxy Music,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Index,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
8 Eyed Spy,
R.M.O.,
Kenny Larkin,
Cecil Taylor,
Agitation Free,
Eric Dolphy,
Funky Four + One,
Sugar Minott,
Subhumans,
The Mummies,
The Doors,
Joe Finger,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bill Wells,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jimmy McGriff,
New Order,
Sun City Girls,
Brick,
Black Flag,
Joey Negro,
Intrusion,
Tomorrow,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Severed Heads,
Hashim,
Wasted Youth,
the Association,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pole,
Youth Brigade,
Graham Central Station,
X-Ray Spex,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
cv313,
Erykah Badu,
Ice-T,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Inner City,
The Cure,
Whodini,
Slick Rick,
Monolake,
The Fortunes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Dave Clark Five,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.