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 Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Pylon to the rock 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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron 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 synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Cymande,
Harry Pussy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
In Retrospect,
Lalann,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
D'Angelo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Derrick May,
The Index,
Black Pus,
The Leaves,
Animal Collective,
Roy Ayers,
Cheater Slicks,
These Immortal Souls,
The Selecter,
Bobby Womack,
Nik Kershaw,
Thompson Twins,
The Mojo Men,
Todd Terry,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Deakin,
The Gap Band,
The Associates,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Barry Ungar,
Archie Shepp,
The Doobie Brothers,
Youth Brigade,
Wire,
Radio Birdman,
The United States of America,
Eden Ahbez,
David Bowie,
Yazoo,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Walker Brothers,
Camouflage,
Fluxion,
Alphaville,
Sugar Minott,
Franke,
New Age Steppers,
Little Man,
Bluetip,
Procol Harum,
Delon & Dalcan,
Godley & Creme,
Charles Mingus,
The Five Americans,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Yellowson,
Robert Wyatt,
Ponytail,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Hardrive,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Derrick Morgan,
Warsaw,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.