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 Mozambique and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 chamberlin 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 Big Daddy Kane to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron 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 Smoke,
Soft Machine,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Trojans,
Heaven 17,
Babytalk,
Section 25,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gang of Four,
The Standells,
Gang Green,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Moody Blues,
Graham Central Station,
Dave Gahan,
the Human League,
Neu!,
Rapeman,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tears for Fears,
Bobbi Humphrey,
New Order,
Pet Shop Boys,
Khruangbin,
Cluster,
Popol Vuh,
Lindisfarne,
Rekid,
Ronan,
Lyres,
Danielle Patucci,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Gap Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
Johnny Clarke,
Bluetip,
Camberwell Now,
The Count Five,
Fluxion,
Reuben Wilson,
D'Angelo,
the Sonics,
Flash Fearless,
Das Ding,
The Star Department,
Andrew Hill,
Nik Kershaw,
Television,
The Durutti Column,
The Selecter,
Lucky Dragons,
Avey Tare,
KRS-One,
Magma,
Lungfish,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rotary Connection,
Letta Mbulu,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Birthday Party,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.