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 Burundi and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 Juan Atkins to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
June Days,
Babytalk,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Germs,
Hashim,
Silicon Teens,
Malaria!,
Pere Ubu,
Gichy Dan,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Toasters,
The Motions,
Deepchord,
Funkadelic,
Sugar Minott,
Rakim,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lightning Bolt,
the Association,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sällskapet,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ronan,
Kerri Chandler,
Kerrie Biddell,
Erykah Badu,
Agent Orange,
Al Stewart,
CMW,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Technova,
Underground Resistance,
Shuggie Otis,
Boz Scaggs,
X-102,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Alice Coltrane,
Panda Bear,
John Foxx,
Supertramp,
Frankie Knuckles,
Aloha Tigers,
Maleditus Sound,
Eric Dolphy,
Marine Girls,
Terry Callier,
Lungfish,
Man Eating Sloth,
U.S. Maple,
X-Ray Spex,
Hot Snakes,
The J.B.'s,
Suburban Knight,
Leonard Cohen,
Alison Limerick,
Excepter,
Sandy B,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.