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 Samoa and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Judy Mowatt to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gregory Isaacs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
Parry Music,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Invisible,
The Slackers,
Vainqueur,
Porter Ricks,
The Barracudas,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nick Fraelich,
Gichy Dan,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Misunderstood,
Derrick May,
Barry Ungar,
Patti Smith,
Stiv Bators,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Soul II Soul,
Glambeats Corp.,
Yellowson,
Quantec,
Grauzone,
Faraquet,
Crooked Eye,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Cowsills,
Michelle Simonal,
Matthew Bourne,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Hot Snakes,
Marc Almond,
Eve St. Jones,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Essential Logic,
Trumans Water,
Negative Approach,
Joy Division,
Sam Rivers,
Ronan,
Zapp,
Pere Ubu,
Sight & Sound,
The Zeros,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cheater Slicks,
Marvin Gaye,
Ponytail,
Tres Demented,
Brothers Johnson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Warsaw,
Alton Ellis,
Roxy Music,
Qualms,
Stetsasonic,
Malaria!,
Cybotron,
Archie Shepp,
The Pop Group,
Slick Rick,
Dennis Brown,
Don Cherry,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.