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 Kosovo and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 marimba 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 The Velvet Underground to the crunk 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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Outsiders,
Monks,
ABC,
Panda Bear,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Leonard Cohen,
Charles Mingus,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Porter Ricks,
La Düsseldorf,
Sugar Minott,
Fela Kuti,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Letta Mbulu,
Angry Samoans,
Ice-T,
Sparks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Dirtbombs,
Boredoms,
The Smiths,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Monochrome Set,
Alison Limerick,
Neu!,
Fugazi,
Second Layer,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Matthew Halsall,
Skriet,
The Gap Band,
The Invisible,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Count Five,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Tremeloes,
The Modern Lovers,
CMW,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
David Axelrod,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bang On A Can,
Sound Behaviour,
Mary Jane Girls,
Scott Walker,
Khruangbin,
Radiopuhelimet,
Aloha Tigers,
Man Eating Sloth,
X-101,
Excepter,
Darondo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Association,
The Raincoats,
Nick Fraelich,
Oneida,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.