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 Cyprus and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Andrew Hill to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Pharoah Sanders,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gregory Isaacs,
Robert Görl,
The Doobie Brothers,
Curtis Mayfield,
AZ,
Alton Ellis,
Stereo Dub,
Motorama,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Barracudas,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Public Enemy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Soft Cell,
The Velvet Underground,
Glenn Branca,
The Shadows of Knight,
Joensuu 1685,
The Searchers,
David Axelrod,
Jimmy McGriff,
Faraquet,
the Sonics,
Quadrant,
Scion,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Techniques,
Faust,
Albert Ayler,
Essential Logic,
Ronan,
The Buckinghams,
Index,
The Slackers,
A Certain Ratio,
Dawn Penn,
Marcia Griffiths,
Freddie Wadling,
The Seeds,
Crime,
Lungfish,
David McCallum,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Gap Band,
Metal Thangz,
The Litter,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Roxy Music,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Piero Umiliani,
Blancmange,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mantronix,
Graham Central Station,
Juan Atkins,
Archie Shepp,
Audionom,
Joyce Sims,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.