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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 808 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 Black Pus to the punk 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Ultra Naté,
Liliput,
Lalo Schifrin,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cluster,
Moby Grape,
X-Ray Spex,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Davy DMX,
Fad Gadget,
Swans,
Sly & The Family Stone,
FM Einheit,
Popol Vuh,
Man Parrish,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tom Boy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ronan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sister Nancy,
Deadbeat,
The Beau Brummels,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Newcleus,
8 Eyed Spy,
KRS-One,
Thompson Twins,
EPMD,
Barclay James Harvest,
Slick Rick,
the Swans,
Robert Wyatt,
Vladislav Delay,
Roxette,
Barry Ungar,
Brand Nubian,
David Bowie,
Yaz,
Sun Ra,
Funkadelic,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Second Layer,
The Cowsills,
Neu!,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scratch Acid,
Tomorrow,
Maurizio,
Yellowson,
Ohio Players,
Derrick Morgan,
The Count Five,
Underground Resistance,
Supertramp,
Warren Ellis,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ice-T,
The Tremeloes,
Brick,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.