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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 mellotron 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 Radiohead 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Circle Jerks,
The Smoke,
Hoover,
T.S.O.L.,
Bill Wells,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rod Modell,
Camberwell Now,
Cecil Taylor,
Faraquet,
Rapeman,
Essential Logic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Selecter,
The Birthday Party,
Organ,
The Gun Club,
The Slits,
Josef K,
Moss Icon,
Khruangbin,
The Raincoats,
Chrome,
The Fortunes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ituana,
Minny Pops,
The Index,
Surgeon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
the Sonics,
Vainqueur,
Wally Richardson,
Stereo Dub,
Crash Course in Science,
The Kinks,
D'Angelo,
Albert Ayler,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Mojo Men,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lungfish,
Marshall Jefferson,
Severed Heads,
Ice-T,
Eurythmics,
The Happenings,
Ultra Naté,
The Invisible,
Reuben Wilson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sällskapet,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Leonard Cohen,
Loose Ends,
Tubeway Army,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.