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 Angola and from Philadelphia.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Harry Pussy to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Avey Tare,
Flipper,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lalo Schifrin,
Anthony Braxton,
John Lydon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bobby Womack,
The Searchers,
The Blackbyrds,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
In Retrospect,
Surgeon,
Alice Coltrane,
Rakim,
La Düsseldorf,
Rosa Yemen,
Agent Orange,
Au Pairs,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Cowsills,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Althea and Donna,
Icehouse,
The Zeros,
Inner City,
Siglo XX,
Ultra Naté,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jandek,
Ice-T,
Pantytec,
The Mojo Men,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ken Boothe,
Nick Fraelich,
Make Up,
Funkadelic,
Oneida,
Morten Harket,
Black Bananas,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Popol Vuh,
Chris Corsano,
Blake Baxter,
Duran Duran,
Pierre Henry,
Byron Stingily,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Marvin Gaye,
Intrusion,
The Fuzztones,
Underground Resistance,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Litter,
Roger Hodgson,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.