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 Jordan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 KRS-One to the electroclash 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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Godley & Creme 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
The Happenings,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Barracudas,
Nils Olav,
The Buckinghams,
The Neon Judgement,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
One Last Wish,
Jimmy McGriff,
Amon Düül,
Fela Kuti,
Arthur Verocai,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ponytail,
Lou Reed,
JFA,
Dark Day,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cecil Taylor,
The Smoke,
Sister Nancy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Carl Craig,
the Association,
Kerrie Biddell,
Neu!,
Chrome,
Urselle,
The Gap Band,
Banda Bassotti,
Fugazi,
Donny Hathaway,
La Düsseldorf,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Slave,
The American Breed,
Slick Rick,
Ronnie Foster,
Amazonics,
The Leaves,
Derrick Morgan,
Pantytec,
Spandau Ballet,
Danielle Patucci,
Graham Central Station,
Gang of Four,
Gregory Isaacs,
Anthony Braxton,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Royal Trux,
Rufus Thomas,
Flash Fearless,
Aaron Thompson,
Althea and Donna,
T. Rex,
the Soft Cell,
Second Layer,
Heaven 17,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.