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 St Lucia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 oboe 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 Ice-T to the rock 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 The New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Magma,
Judy Mowatt,
Eric Dolphy,
the Slits,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Erykah Badu,
Cal Tjader,
Darondo,
Mission of Burma,
the Bar-Kays,
AZ,
Angry Samoans,
The Blues Magoos,
Cymande,
The Mojo Men,
The Vogues,
Infiniti,
Bluetip,
Harry Pussy,
The Remains,
New Age Steppers,
Sound Behaviour,
Idris Muhammad,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sparks,
Minor Threat,
Schoolly D,
Q and Not U,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Spandau Ballet,
Jesper Dahlback,
Connie Case,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Misunderstood,
Television,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Pretty Things,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Brick,
Monks,
Q65,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Donald Byrd,
Hoover,
Black Moon,
Davy DMX,
Jandek,
Pagans,
Unwound,
Ten City,
X-Ray Spex,
Quadrant,
The Associates,
Man Parrish,
Gang Gang Dance,
Essential Logic,
Pere Ubu,
Ituana,
Arab on Radar,
Malaria!,
Visage,
The Divine Comedy,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.