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 Macedonia and from Calgary.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar 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 arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
John Coltrane,
Young Marble Giants,
Sun Ra,
Bobby Byrd,
Sight & Sound,
The Cowsills,
Oblivians,
Buzzcocks,
Gabor Szabo,
The Human League,
Duran Duran,
The Barracudas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Trumans Water,
Eric B and Rakim,
Thompson Twins,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Swans,
In Retrospect,
Amon Düül,
Little Man,
Faust,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Black Moon,
Lakeside,
This Heat,
Blake Baxter,
The Martian,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Funkadelic,
Stockholm Monsters,
Suicide,
Traffic Nightmare,
Piero Umiliani,
Arthur Verocai,
Robert Görl,
Porter Ricks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bob Dylan,
Shuggie Otis,
Panda Bear,
Kenny Larkin,
Mad Mike,
Boredoms,
Marine Girls,
Iggy Pop,
John Cale,
The Detroit Cobras,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Angels of Light,
Soulsonic Force,
K-Klass,
The Moody Blues,
Swell Maps,
Slick Rick,
Godley & Creme,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.