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 New Zealand and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Nils Olav to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Peter & Gordon. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
JFA,
The Human League,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Easy Going,
Iggy Pop,
Lucky Dragons,
Warren Ellis,
Johnny Osbourne,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kayak,
Ronnie Foster,
Tropical Tobacco,
David McCallum,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rufus Thomas,
Thee Headcoats,
Eric Copeland,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gang of Four,
kango's stein massive,
The Techniques,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bauhaus,
Maurizio,
Radio Birdman,
Siglo XX,
The Black Dice,
Erasure,
Skarface,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Scott Walker,
The Searchers,
The Mummies,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cal Tjader,
Babytalk,
The Beau Brummels,
F. McDonald,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Names,
The Walker Brothers,
Kenny Larkin,
Juan Atkins,
Yusef Lateef,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bronski Beat,
New Age Steppers,
Hot Snakes,
Wally Richardson,
The Fire Engines,
Toni Rubio,
Scan 7,
These Immortal Souls,
Metal Thangz,
Lightning Bolt,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pharoah Sanders,
Wolf Eyes,
Bad Manners,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.