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 Andorra and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mexico City.
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 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
Crispian St. Peters,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Duran Duran,
8 Eyed Spy,
The American Breed,
Terrestrial Tones,
Connie Case,
Nik Kershaw,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Monks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sällskapet,
Joyce Sims,
Scrapy,
The Knickerbockers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Boredoms,
Erykah Badu,
Surgeon,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bronski Beat,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Supertramp,
Buzzcocks,
A Certain Ratio,
Intrusion,
The Dirtbombs,
Donny Hathaway,
Essential Logic,
The Five Americans,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Associates,
Fatback Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marmalade,
Youth Brigade,
Delta 5,
Nico,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Darondo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The New Christs,
Rotary Connection,
Rites of Spring,
Eddi Front,
Radiohead,
Japan,
The Music Machine,
Ornette Coleman,
Hasil Adkins,
Camberwell Now,
New Order,
The Residents,
The Walker Brothers,
The Leaves,
the Slits,
Kenny Larkin,
The Sonics,
Funky Four + One,
Aloha Tigers,
Los Fastidios,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.