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 Netherlands and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Shanghai.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Techniques to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All cv313 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Pop Group,
Gang Starr,
Depeche Mode,
B.T. Express,
Q65,
Sun Ra,
Kerri Chandler,
The Smiths,
Gang Green,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Agent Orange,
Pussy Galore,
Crime,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
R.M.O.,
Kenny Larkin,
Wasted Youth,
The Martian,
The Angels of Light,
Nils Olav,
The Associates,
Main Source,
JFA,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Drexciya,
The Litter,
Bobby Sherman,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Black Dice,
Erykah Badu,
The Victims,
the Soft Cell,
The Saints,
Moss Icon,
The Toasters,
Don Cherry,
Qualms,
Aaron Thompson,
Brand Nubian,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Carl Craig,
Slick Rick,
Model 500,
Jacques Brel,
Wings,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Fuzztones,
Sonic Youth,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Bar-Kays,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Steve Hackett,
Joe Finger,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Minny Pops,
Pierre Henry,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lou Reed,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.