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 Canada and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Amazonics to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo 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?
Dorothy Ashby,
Magazine,
Mars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Country Teasers,
Althea and Donna,
Popol Vuh,
the Human League,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Scrapy,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Association,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Andrew Hill,
Oblivians,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Sound,
T.S.O.L.,
The Invisible,
Reagan Youth,
Hashim,
Fad Gadget,
Arthur Verocai,
Delta 5,
Kas Product,
Flash Fearless,
Patti Smith,
Brick,
Alice Coltrane,
Sparks,
Howard Jones,
Johnny Clarke,
The Techniques,
Gong,
The Dead C,
June of 44,
The Gap Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Black Dice,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lucky Dragons,
Niagra,
The Motions,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Flesh Eaters,
Little Man,
Infiniti,
The Slits,
FM Einheit,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fall,
Marmalade,
Main Source,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Television,
Ten City,
The Dave Clark Five,
Black Bananas,
Nick Fraelich,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Walker Brothers,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.