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 Guinea and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kerri Chandler to the grime 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
Hashim,
Kenny Larkin,
Index,
Negative Approach,
Jimmy McGriff,
Agitation Free,
Eden Ahbez,
New Age Steppers,
K-Klass,
Rosa Yemen,
Main Source,
Ohio Players,
Rakim,
Alton Ellis,
Crispian St. Peters,
Shuggie Otis,
Bill Wells,
The Martian,
Jeff Mills,
Roger Hodgson,
Oblivians,
Man Parrish,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Remains,
Barclay James Harvest,
Scientists,
The Dead C,
Anthony Braxton,
Hardrive,
Ronnie Foster,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Skarface,
Crash Course in Science,
Avey Tare,
Popol Vuh,
Blancmange,
Dual Sessions,
Lalo Schifrin,
Dead Boys,
David Axelrod,
Pantytec,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
JFA,
Eurythmics,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
John Lydon,
Sonic Youth,
Sight & Sound,
Con Funk Shun,
Tom Boy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Minny Pops,
Accadde A,
Thompson Twins,
John Holt,
Stockholm Monsters,
Donald Byrd,
F. McDonald,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.