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 Sierra Leone and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 chamberlin 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 Jeru the Damaja to the crunk 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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sunsets and Hearts record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
MC5,
Andrew Hill,
Reuben Wilson,
LL Cool J,
Anthony Braxton,
Henry Cow,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pulsallama,
Spandau Ballet,
Harmonia,
The Modern Lovers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Grey Daturas,
Todd Rundgren,
Kevin Saunderson,
Camouflage,
Kas Product,
Isaac Hayes,
B.T. Express,
The Monks,
Easy Going,
Desert Stars,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tom Boy,
Mad Mike,
Davy DMX,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bobby Womack,
The Buckinghams,
Babytalk,
Carl Craig,
Cluster,
Eric Copeland,
X-102,
the Sonics,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scratch Acid,
Man Parrish,
Public Image Ltd.,
CMW,
Ohio Players,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Donald Byrd,
Section 25,
Lightning Bolt,
Funkadelic,
A Certain Ratio,
Chrome,
The Slackers,
Loose Ends,
Fela Kuti,
Crash Course in Science,
The Knickerbockers,
Ronnie Foster,
Procol Harum,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.