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 Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Alison Limerick to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin 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?
X-101,
The Slackers,
Groovy Waters,
The Buckinghams,
Silicon Teens,
T.S.O.L.,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Idris Muhammad,
Pierre Henry,
Visage,
One Last Wish,
Matthew Halsall,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Offenders,
The Busters,
Rotary Connection,
Johnny Osbourne,
Brand Nubian,
Vladislav Delay,
The American Breed,
Saccharine Trust,
La Düsseldorf,
Jerry's Kids,
Bauhaus,
The Move,
Livin' Joy,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Velvet Underground,
Chrome,
Delon & Dalcan,
KRS-One,
the Soft Cell,
F. McDonald,
The Seeds,
Zapp,
Boz Scaggs,
The Kinks,
Ossler,
Moebius,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Khruangbin,
Bobby Hutcherson,
China Crisis,
Man Parrish,
Roy Ayers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cecil Taylor,
The Grass Roots,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Nick Fraelich,
June Days,
Lou Reed,
Althea and Donna,
Lalann,
Lou Christie,
Man Eating Sloth,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dennis Brown,
Dual Sessions,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.