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 Panama and from Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Beijing.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ronnie Foster to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
Bad Manners,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tears for Fears,
Avey Tare,
UT,
Pantaleimon,
The Barracudas,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Agitation Free,
Anthony Braxton,
Quando Quango,
Animal Collective,
The Shadows of Knight,
Buzzcocks,
Absolute Body Control,
Pole,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
the Bar-Kays,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bobby Womack,
X-102,
The Busters,
James White and The Blacks,
Al Stewart,
The Trojans,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Names,
The Doors,
Severed Heads,
The Skatalites,
Gang of Four,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Toni Rubio,
48th St. Collective,
Ohio Players,
Drive Like Jehu,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gong,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sound Behaviour,
Matthew Halsall,
Man Parrish,
Negative Approach,
Goldenarms,
The Knickerbockers,
La Düsseldorf,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Techniques,
Terry Callier,
The Flesh Eaters,
T. Rex,
Masters at Work,
These Immortal Souls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Make Up,
Clear Light,
R.M.O.,
Ralphi Rosario,
Robert Wyatt,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.