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 Peru and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Kinks to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lakeside record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Chrome,
Quantec,
Cybotron,
Agent Orange,
Wasted Youth,
Andrew Hill,
Porter Ricks,
Black Sheep,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jacques Brel,
The Human League,
Guru Guru,
The Litter,
Essential Logic,
The Gories,
The Dead C,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Fall,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Jeff Mills,
Fifty Foot Hose,
kango's stein massive,
The Cowsills,
Letta Mbulu,
Stetsasonic,
Tres Demented,
JFA,
Althea and Donna,
H. Thieme,
the Human League,
Bootsy Collins,
Mo-Dettes,
Glambeats Corp.,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Trojans,
Sister Nancy,
Metal Thangz,
the Sonics,
Whodini,
Max Romeo,
Peter and Kerry,
Lyres,
Eli Mardock,
Patti Smith,
cv313,
Eric Dolphy,
David Bowie,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Angels of Light,
The Blackbyrds,
The Happenings,
Scott Walker,
Nik Kershaw,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Mojo Men,
X-101,
Newcleus,
Infiniti,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dennis Brown,
The Count Five,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.