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 Lesotho and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Animal Collective to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
The Raincoats,
Bad Manners,
Can,
Urselle,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Music Machine,
Fear,
Robert Wyatt,
Gang Green,
Angry Samoans,
Steve Hackett,
Ohio Players,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nick Fraelich,
Colin Newman,
The Last Poets,
Monolake,
Junior Murvin,
Bobby Byrd,
Gang Gang Dance,
Joe Smooth,
Minnie Riperton,
Qualms,
Mary Jane Girls,
Depeche Mode,
Fad Gadget,
Ultravox,
David Bowie,
Black Pus,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Groovy Waters,
Rakim,
Intrusion,
Donny Hathaway,
Althea and Donna,
Josef K,
Stockholm Monsters,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
China Crisis,
The Moleskins,
Second Layer,
Juan Atkins,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lebanon Hanover,
Electric Prunes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Gladiators,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Malaria!,
Pussy Galore,
Livin' Joy,
Joyce Sims,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Dave Clark Five,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ralphi Rosario,
Terry Callier,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.