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 Monaco and from Lagos.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Kerrie Biddell 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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Alison Limerick,
Minny Pops,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Gladiators,
Jawbox,
Boz Scaggs,
One Last Wish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bill Near,
Brick,
The Mojo Men,
Can,
the Swans,
Vainqueur,
Anakelly,
Gang Green,
Bob Dylan,
The Moleskins,
The Flesh Eaters,
Erykah Badu,
Matthew Bourne,
Mark Hollis,
Intrusion,
The Cramps,
Crash Course in Science,
Monks,
Rekid,
8 Eyed Spy,
Japan,
Neu!,
Ohio Players,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sex Pistols,
Brand Nubian,
Barbara Tucker,
Godley & Creme,
The Dirtbombs,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kerri Chandler,
New York Dolls,
Jacob Miller,
The Kinks,
The Monks,
The Count Five,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Stereo Dub,
Zero Boys,
Nirvana,
Black Moon,
Robert Wyatt,
Bobby Womack,
Shuggie Otis,
Cecil Taylor,
Von Mondo,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Severed Heads,
Scott Walker,
Albert Ayler,
Aswad,
Slick Rick,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe.
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.