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 Italy and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 808 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 Swans to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
The Slits,
The Offenders,
The Barracudas,
Lindisfarne,
Sällskapet,
Television,
Funky Four + One,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Gastr Del Sol,
New Order,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Grandmaster Flash,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The American Breed,
The Mojo Men,
Ultimate Spinach,
Warren Ellis,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lightning Bolt,
Marvin Gaye,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Human League,
Intrusion,
Byron Stingily,
Rotary Connection,
The Moleskins,
Iggy Pop,
Hoover,
Popol Vuh,
Junior Murvin,
Quantec,
Deakin,
Wally Richardson,
Sun Ra,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Sonics,
Pulsallama,
Interpol,
The Beau Brummels,
Shuggie Otis,
Prince Buster,
Drive Like Jehu,
Section 25,
Tubeway Army,
Robert Wyatt,
Newcleus,
Mark Hollis,
Tomorrow,
Eli Mardock,
Procol Harum,
The Remains,
Rakim,
Vainqueur,
Fluxion,
Nas,
Robert Görl,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.