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 Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cal Tjader to the grime 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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 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 Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Maleditus Sound,
The Fuzztones,
Archie Shepp,
Massinfluence,
PIL,
Chrome,
Bang On A Can,
Byron Stingily,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Chris Corsano,
Soft Machine,
Grey Daturas,
Harry Pussy,
Gichy Dan,
June Days,
The Evens,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ronnie Foster,
Model 500,
Charles Mingus,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
David Bowie,
Lyres,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jandek,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Maurizio,
Bluetip,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Index,
Parry Music,
Tres Demented,
Tomorrow,
Niagra,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lou Christie,
Intrusion,
Yazoo,
Derrick May,
Scratch Acid,
Royal Trux,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Angels of Light,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mandrill,
Ituana,
Clear Light,
Ossler,
John Coltrane,
Aural Exciters,
John Lydon,
Ohio Players,
The Star Department,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rhythm & Sound,
Colin Newman,
Swans,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.