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 Brazil and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Letta Mbulu to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
Freddie Wadling,
Bill Wells,
Jawbox,
Duran Duran,
Jeru the Damaja,
June of 44,
Byron Stingily,
The Dave Clark Five,
Fatback Band,
Radiohead,
Anakelly,
MDC,
Alison Limerick,
Animal Collective,
The Buckinghams,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rufus Thomas,
Qualms,
Stetsasonic,
Joy Division,
The Offenders,
Rapeman,
Lyres,
Ponytail,
The Neon Judgement,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sun Ra,
Dark Day,
The Monks,
A Certain Ratio,
Camberwell Now,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cymande,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sandy B,
Fluxion,
Aural Exciters,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Stooges,
The Last Poets,
Al Stewart,
The Busters,
Main Source,
Bill Near,
Minnie Riperton,
The Walker Brothers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nick Fraelich,
Siglo XX,
Stockholm Monsters,
Infiniti,
Reagan Youth,
Eurythmics,
Ornette Coleman,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.