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 Kazakhstan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
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 oboe 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Gories. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soulsonic Force 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Wally Richardson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fat Boys,
48th St. Collective,
Warsaw,
Wolf Eyes,
Joe Smooth,
Sixth Finger,
The Martian,
Kayak,
Robert Görl,
Chrome,
The Electric Prunes,
David Axelrod,
Lungfish,
The Residents,
D'Angelo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bauhaus,
Oblivians,
Godley & Creme,
Kurtis Blow,
Lindisfarne,
Animal Collective,
Ornette Coleman,
One Last Wish,
The J.B.'s,
The Divine Comedy,
Smog,
Kool Moe Dee,
Wire,
Tom Boy,
The Moleskins,
Agitation Free,
Dawn Penn,
Gong,
Scott Walker,
Bad Manners,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Selecter,
The Last Poets,
Aswad,
Malaria!,
New Order,
World's Most,
Harmonia,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Y Pants,
The Sound,
KRS-One,
Barry Ungar,
Little Man,
Anakelly,
Mantronix,
Main Source,
This Heat,
Patti Smith,
New Age Steppers,
Eve St. Jones,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.