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 Zambia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Lou Reed 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 Harpers Bizarre to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
The Fire Engines,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Whodini,
The Flesh Eaters,
Funky Four + One,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Fortunes,
Suburban Knight,
Gang of Four,
Scott Walker,
Marmalade,
Sonic Youth,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Minny Pops,
Dawn Penn,
Lou Christie,
Nik Kershaw,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Moody Blues,
The Music Machine,
Carl Craig,
Radio Birdman,
Half Japanese,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Zeros,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Kinks,
The Selecter,
B.T. Express,
John Cale,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Faraquet,
Moebius,
Agitation Free,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Motions,
This Heat,
Anthony Braxton,
The Pretty Things,
New Age Steppers,
Mary Jane Girls,
Isaac Hayes,
Accadde A,
The Trojans,
Rites of Spring,
R.M.O.,
The Smiths,
Kerrie Biddell,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ronan,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Smoke,
The Dave Clark Five,
Thee Headcoats,
Pantaleimon,
Absolute Body Control,
Infiniti,
Negative Approach,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lucky Dragons,
Black Sheep,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.