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 South Sudan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Accra.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 The Blackbyrds to the funk 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Ken Boothe,
The Searchers,
The Invisible,
Aswad,
Hoover,
Fatback Band,
Jacob Miller,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Procol Harum,
Alison Limerick,
Inner City,
Chris Corsano,
Hashim,
Thompson Twins,
Crispian St. Peters,
Charles Mingus,
Josef K,
Wolf Eyes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rotary Connection,
Lyres,
John Foxx,
The Fire Engines,
Shuggie Otis,
Joensuu 1685,
Shoche,
Y Pants,
Bizarre Inc.,
Motorama,
Ultra Naté,
David McCallum,
Index,
Tres Demented,
Gang Starr,
The Shadows of Knight,
Brick,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Blancmange,
New Age Steppers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Fania All-Stars,
Chrome,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sun Ra,
F. McDonald,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Aural Exciters,
Surgeon,
The Stooges,
Black Moon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gregory Isaacs,
Tomorrow,
Massinfluence,
OOIOO,
Dave Gahan,
Second Layer,
Skarface,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.