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 Barbados and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Letta Mbulu to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Model 500. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Bob Dylan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
48th St. Collective,
Radio Birdman,
Das Ding,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Brass Construction,
Second Layer,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Germs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
F. McDonald,
Gastr Del Sol,
Con Funk Shun,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Quadrant,
In Retrospect,
Brick,
Johnny Osbourne,
a-ha,
Section 25,
Lalann,
The Residents,
Boredoms,
The Index,
Ash Ra Tempel,
ABBA,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Soulsonic Force,
R.M.O.,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Kenny Larkin,
Nik Kershaw,
T. Rex,
Harry Pussy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Glambeats Corp.,
10cc,
Gabor Szabo,
Mandrill,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gang of Four,
Mission of Burma,
Adolescents,
The Mojo Men,
The Cure,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Amazonics,
Country Teasers,
The Last Poets,
The New Christs,
Josef K,
Joey Negro,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kool Moe Dee,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.