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 Nicaragua and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kerrie Biddell to the disco 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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Near record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Television Personalities,
Iggy Pop,
Bootsy Collins,
Zapp,
The Index,
Make Up,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Stooges,
The Kinks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Sonics,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Livin' Joy,
Juan Atkins,
Ornette Coleman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Grass Roots,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Glambeats Corp.,
Moby Grape,
The Dave Clark Five,
Spandau Ballet,
Clear Light,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ludus,
Max Romeo,
H. Thieme,
Howard Jones,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Mummies,
Harpers Bizarre,
Warsaw,
Andrew Hill,
Blossom Toes,
Tears for Fears,
the Association,
Matthew Halsall,
The Zeros,
Index,
Wings,
The Monks,
Ultravox,
Letta Mbulu,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
One Last Wish,
Robert Hood,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pet Shop Boys,
Morten Harket,
Youth Brigade,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sandy B,
Half Japanese,
The Fugs,
CMW,
Joy Division,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.