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 Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Sun Ra Arkestra to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Wasted Youth,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Camberwell Now,
Whodini,
Barclay James Harvest,
Janne Schatter,
The Fall,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
James White and The Blacks,
Ludus,
Shoche,
Jawbox,
Aloha Tigers,
Fela Kuti,
Delta 5,
The Fugs,
Junior Murvin,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Donald Byrd,
The Star Department,
John Coltrane,
Grey Daturas,
Jeff Lynne,
Desert Stars,
The Neon Judgement,
Blossom Toes,
Rod Modell,
The Move,
Cecil Taylor,
The Buckinghams,
ABC,
Section 25,
Angry Samoans,
The Remains,
The Fortunes,
Los Fastidios,
The Trojans,
Idris Muhammad,
Vainqueur,
Suicide,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
David Bowie,
Ice-T,
Robert Wyatt,
Danielle Patucci,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Organ,
Judy Mowatt,
Soft Machine,
Prince Buster,
The Tremeloes,
Fear,
Brass Construction,
Bluetip,
The Velvet Underground,
Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale.
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.