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 Spain and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manchester.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the güiro 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the jazz 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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy Collins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Patti Smith,
Babytalk,
Reuben Wilson,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Black Sheep,
Roxy Music,
Ronnie Foster,
Dorothy Ashby,
Silicon Teens,
The American Breed,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kurtis Blow,
the Swans,
Fatback Band,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Joensuu 1685,
Model 500,
Donald Byrd,
David Bowie,
Morten Harket,
Blossom Toes,
Yaz,
Buzzcocks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Agitation Free,
Robert Wyatt,
Vainqueur,
Letta Mbulu,
Radiopuhelimet,
Barry Ungar,
Nas,
Hardrive,
Mark Hollis,
The Slits,
Althea and Donna,
The Monochrome Set,
the Sonics,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
R.M.O.,
Little Man,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Star Department,
Ultra Naté,
Toni Rubio,
Rosa Yemen,
Kool Moe Dee,
Funky Four + One,
Eric Dolphy,
Cymande,
Sex Pistols,
Lucky Dragons,
Scion,
Oblivians,
Yazoo,
Brothers Johnson,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Monks,
Ohio Players,
Altered Images,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.