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 Guatemala and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 organ 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 Moss Icon to the disco 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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Aswad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pierre Henry,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Misunderstood,
Fear,
LL Cool J,
Oblivians,
The Walker Brothers,
Gang Starr,
Gregory Isaacs,
Interpol,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Parry Music,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Offenders,
Derrick Morgan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tres Demented,
Black Sheep,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Buzzcocks,
The Real Kids,
Agent Orange,
Ten City,
Mission of Burma,
Livin' Joy,
Ituana,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ronan,
Icehouse,
China Crisis,
The Vogues,
The Associates,
Minny Pops,
Amazonics,
Camberwell Now,
Sarah Menescal,
Minor Threat,
Graham Central Station,
Ornette Coleman,
Iggy Pop,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
D'Angelo,
Avey Tare,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sam Rivers,
The Names,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Tears for Fears,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Girls At Our Best!,
A Certain Ratio,
Todd Rundgren,
Agitation Free,
Tommy Roe,
Donny Hathaway,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.