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 Guatemala and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the rap 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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Khruangbin,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
John Holt,
Marvin Gaye,
Stereo Dub,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sandy B,
Avey Tare,
Bang On A Can,
Ohio Players,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Doobie Brothers,
Basic Channel,
The Busters,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Germs,
Derrick May,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
L. Decosne,
Masters at Work,
Patti Smith,
Nation of Ulysses,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Procol Harum,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rosa Yemen,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Fall,
Gichy Dan,
Yaz,
Henry Cow,
B.T. Express,
Thompson Twins,
Bluetip,
Flamin' Groovies,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sister Nancy,
Connie Case,
The Golliwogs,
Flipper,
Accadde A,
X-Ray Spex,
Darondo,
Aaron Thompson,
Drexciya,
The Trojans,
Scientists,
Faraquet,
a-ha,
Lou Christie,
Amon Düül II,
Arcadia,
The Fuzztones,
Blossom Toes,
Animal Collective,
Mars,
Slick Rick,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gabor Szabo,
Electric Prunes,
Wire,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.