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 Turkmenistan and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Nas to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a It's A Beautiful Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nils Olav,
Kool Moe Dee,
Excepter,
The Black Dice,
T. Rex,
The Pretty Things,
The Tremeloes,
Lucky Dragons,
Dave Gahan,
David Axelrod,
the Slits,
cv313,
Lightning Bolt,
Kayak,
Popol Vuh,
Bootsy Collins,
Robert Wyatt,
Ken Boothe,
The American Breed,
Livin' Joy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Iggy Pop,
Ultimate Spinach,
June of 44,
Bill Wells,
Frankie Knuckles,
Erasure,
OOIOO,
Henry Cow,
Lindisfarne,
JFA,
Dark Day,
Cal Tjader,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fire Engines,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
LL Cool J,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rakim,
Smog,
Letta Mbulu,
Boredoms,
Young Marble Giants,
Dead Boys,
Patti Smith,
Todd Rundgren,
Robert Görl,
Jacob Miller,
AZ,
Soft Machine,
Nas,
Organ,
Erykah Badu,
Sam Rivers,
Brothers Johnson,
Loose Ends,
Nation of Ulysses,
Thompson Twins,
the Association,
La Düsseldorf,
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.