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 Namibia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 mellotron 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 The Last Poets to the techno 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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gap Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy Collins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Warsaw,
Quantec,
Albert Ayler,
Scan 7,
Slick Rick,
Nik Kershaw,
Soft Machine,
Accadde A,
Traffic Nightmare,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Japan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jeru the Damaja,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sarah Menescal,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Black Bananas,
Lou Christie,
The Cure,
The Skatalites,
X-Ray Spex,
The Monks,
Pussy Galore,
Bill Near,
The Pretty Things,
Cybotron,
The Gories,
Camouflage,
Trumans Water,
The Dead C,
Clear Light,
Newcleus,
Robert Hood,
Man Eating Sloth,
Barry Ungar,
Iggy Pop,
Aaron Thompson,
The Electric Prunes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Josef K,
June Days,
Goldenarms,
Jeff Lynne,
Cameo,
Rites of Spring,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lucky Dragons,
Scientists,
Erasure,
Davy DMX,
Fugazi,
Alice Coltrane,
Tim Buckley,
Banda Bassotti,
Symarip,
Au Pairs,
The Vogues,
Tears for Fears,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.