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 Afghanistan and from Delhi.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Rakim to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Johnny Clarke,
The Busters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Depeche Mode,
Howard Jones,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
One Last Wish,
John Coltrane,
The Mummies,
the Germs,
Wolf Eyes,
Mr. Review,
The Happenings,
The Sonics,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lakeside,
Black Sheep,
Schoolly D,
The Doors,
Public Image Ltd.,
Neil Young,
Nico,
Organ,
The Gories,
Matthew Halsall,
Stetsasonic,
Cal Tjader,
AZ,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Grey Daturas,
Kayak,
Dennis Brown,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Hasil Adkins,
Amon Düül,
The Offenders,
Marvin Gaye,
Soul Sonic Force,
Motorama,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Minutemen,
David Axelrod,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Fugs,
Suburban Knight,
Arab on Radar,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gang of Four,
The Dead C,
Delon & Dalcan,
D'Angelo,
The Residents,
Skarface,
Jimmy McGriff,
Radiohead,
Morten Harket,
Rapeman,
Sällskapet,
Eric Copeland,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.