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 Togo and from Stockholm.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Portland.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Rapeman to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hashim,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Aswad,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Henry Cow,
The Martian,
Make Up,
Nik Kershaw,
John Cale,
CMW,
Anthony Braxton,
Letta Mbulu,
DJ Style,
The Vogues,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Roxette,
June of 44,
Maurizio,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Raincoats,
E-Dancer,
B.T. Express,
F. McDonald,
Magma,
Roy Ayers,
Funky Four + One,
Suburban Knight,
The Cure,
Skaos,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Janne Schatter,
Todd Terry,
Hardrive,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rufus Thomas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Real Kids,
The Offenders,
Underground Resistance,
Basic Channel,
Clear Light,
David Bowie,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Slave,
Fear,
Saccharine Trust,
Newcleus,
Public Enemy,
Gong,
Leonard Cohen,
Idris Muhammad,
Joe Smooth,
The Mummies,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Whodini,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Seeds,
Gerry Rafferty,
Audionom,
Nils Olav,
UT,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.