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 Spain and from Jakarta.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every CMW record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Swans,
H. Thieme,
Alice Coltrane,
the Normal,
a-ha,
Rotary Connection,
Von Mondo,
Y Pants,
Pantaleimon,
Parry Music,
David Bowie,
Con Funk Shun,
Lee Hazlewood,
Brick,
The Saints,
Rakim,
The Slackers,
Bauhaus,
Isaac Hayes,
New Age Steppers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Barclay James Harvest,
Popol Vuh,
Rites of Spring,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Smiths,
Stetsasonic,
Tubeway Army,
Grauzone,
Hashim,
Jawbox,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Henry Cow,
Judy Mowatt,
The Velvet Underground,
Lakeside,
Loose Ends,
Adolescents,
Dennis Brown,
Subhumans,
ABBA,
Donny Hathaway,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Last Poets,
Peter & Gordon,
The Doors,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cecil Taylor,
Lucky Dragons,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
D'Angelo,
The Slits,
AZ,
Shoche,
New York Dolls,
MDC,
Japan,
Bootsy Collins,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Alison Limerick,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.