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 Netherlands and from Philadelphia.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ornette Coleman to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Rites of Spring,
The Cowsills,
Kerri Chandler,
Q and Not U,
Joensuu 1685,
Rakim,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fat Boys,
Roy Ayers,
Bluetip,
The Real Kids,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Walker Brothers,
UT,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Traffic Nightmare,
Camberwell Now,
X-Ray Spex,
The New Christs,
Grauzone,
New Order,
Eddi Front,
Rotary Connection,
Public Enemy,
Skaos,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wolf Eyes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
X-101,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ponytail,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Radiopuhelimet,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Groovy Waters,
Joyce Sims,
Patti Smith,
T. Rex,
Vladislav Delay,
Nation of Ulysses,
Visage,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Neu!,
Funkadelic,
Rekid,
Oneida,
Pole,
The Fuzztones,
The Raincoats,
Kurtis Blow,
The Black Dice,
Bad Manners,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Birthday Party,
Aaron Thompson,
Man Parrish,
Crime,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.