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 Bahamas and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Donald Fagen 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 Hoover to the rap 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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
Average White Band,
Alice Coltrane,
Dennis Brown,
Eddi Front,
Saccharine Trust,
Eden Ahbez,
Bobby Byrd,
Eli Mardock,
Sam Rivers,
Erykah Badu,
Althea and Donna,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cymande,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scientists,
Funky Four + One,
U.S. Maple,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Misunderstood,
Second Layer,
Lou Reed,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Marc Almond,
Sugar Minott,
David Bowie,
The Cramps,
Sexual Harrassment,
Piero Umiliani,
The Saints,
Sonic Youth,
The Vogues,
Lindisfarne,
Faraquet,
The Durutti Column,
The Barracudas,
Harry Pussy,
Matthew Halsall,
Brand Nubian,
Eric Dolphy,
Soul II Soul,
The Smoke,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Carl Craig,
Von Mondo,
Agitation Free,
June of 44,
Shuggie Otis,
Joey Negro,
Altered Images,
Ohio Players,
Neu!,
Oblivians,
Panda Bear,
Talk Talk,
The Divine Comedy,
Schoolly D,
Maurizio,
Deakin,
Brothers Johnson,
DJ Style,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.