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 Somalia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra Arkestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
The Real Kids,
The Leaves,
Anakelly,
Susan Cadogan,
Laurel Aitken,
Barbara Tucker,
Nas,
Nirvana,
Wasted Youth,
Sixth Finger,
Man Parrish,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Black Bananas,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Maurizio,
Zero Boys,
Bobby Womack,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Janne Schatter,
Amazonics,
Man Eating Sloth,
10cc,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Residents,
Thee Headcoats,
Alice Coltrane,
Sparks,
JFA,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lucky Dragons,
Scion,
T. Rex,
Arthur Verocai,
The Cowsills,
Pagans,
Kool Moe Dee,
Freddie Wadling,
B.T. Express,
Howard Jones,
OOIOO,
The Detroit Cobras,
Magma,
Lalann,
Peter and Kerry,
Rakim,
Camberwell Now,
Make Up,
UT,
PIL,
Angry Samoans,
K-Klass,
Harry Pussy,
Pole,
Bobby Sherman,
Kayak,
Los Fastidios,
Al Stewart,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.