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 Brunei and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 mellotron 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 Letta Mbulu to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra Arkestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Max Romeo,
Stetsasonic,
David McCallum,
Kool Moe Dee,
Livin' Joy,
Glenn Branca,
Deakin,
Alton Ellis,
Lyres,
The Misunderstood,
Subhumans,
Khruangbin,
Easy Going,
The Victims,
John Holt,
Erykah Badu,
Byron Stingily,
Bad Manners,
Bobby Byrd,
Idris Muhammad,
Brothers Johnson,
Porter Ricks,
Marvin Gaye,
Pussy Galore,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Sonics,
Moebius,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bluetip,
Curtis Mayfield,
Harry Pussy,
Reagan Youth,
Bootsy Collins,
One Last Wish,
Eric Copeland,
The Divine Comedy,
The Music Machine,
Bronski Beat,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Residents,
The Saints,
Kevin Saunderson,
Girls At Our Best!,
Funkadelic,
Amon Düül II,
Zapp,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Magma,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Spandau Ballet,
The Motions,
Fugazi,
Carl Craig,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
B.T. Express,
Surgeon,
Newcleus,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.