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 Finland and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 Paris and Columbus.
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 harpsichord 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 Pharoah Sanders to the punk 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yusef Lateef record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
The Dave Clark Five,
Royal Trux,
Kenny Larkin,
Rakim,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Scan 7,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Aswad,
Sixth Finger,
Danielle Patucci,
Byron Stingily,
Anthony Braxton,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bang On A Can,
Funkadelic,
The Misunderstood,
Glenn Branca,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Agent Orange,
Fad Gadget,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Crispy Ambulance,
AZ,
Ultravox,
Brick,
CMW,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ice-T,
The Toasters,
Rufus Thomas,
Laurel Aitken,
Essential Logic,
Crooked Eye,
David McCallum,
Dennis Brown,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Hasil Adkins,
Sällskapet,
The Buckinghams,
The Knickerbockers,
the Swans,
Aaron Thompson,
Arthur Verocai,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gabor Szabo,
kango's stein massive,
Panda Bear,
Country Teasers,
Echospace,
Quando Quango,
Mission of Burma,
Ludus,
Patti Smith,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.