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 Bulgaria and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Nile Rodgers 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 The Gories 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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Gang Green,
Radio Birdman,
The Index,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Faust,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Shoche,
Wasted Youth,
Minny Pops,
Roy Ayers,
Young Marble Giants,
X-102,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Man Parrish,
Bootsy Collins,
Pylon,
Quantec,
Animal Collective,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lungfish,
The Barracudas,
Dead Boys,
The Stooges,
Echospace,
Darondo,
Spandau Ballet,
The Misunderstood,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gastr Del Sol,
Warsaw,
Alison Limerick,
Sarah Menescal,
Bizarre Inc.,
Marshall Jefferson,
Amon Düül II,
Ohio Players,
Smog,
Fatback Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Velvet Underground,
Mo-Dettes,
DJ Sneak,
Barry Ungar,
Deepchord,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Swans,
Country Teasers,
Sparks,
Terry Callier,
Traffic Nightmare,
John Holt,
Nirvana,
Marvin Gaye,
Underground Resistance,
Suburban Knight,
Spoonie Gee,
Idris Muhammad,
The Kinks,
Little Man,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.