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 Iran and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Shadows of Knight to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Donny Hathaway,
Niagra,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Star Department,
Archie Shepp,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Doors,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
One Last Wish,
Babytalk,
Lou Reed,
Pagans,
Pere Ubu,
X-102,
UT,
Circle Jerks,
Hoover,
Lower 48,
New Order,
Jerry's Kids,
Terry Callier,
Flash Fearless,
Animal Collective,
Camouflage,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ronnie Foster,
Cecil Taylor,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Delta 5,
Idris Muhammad,
Leonard Cohen,
Bronski Beat,
The Techniques,
Tears for Fears,
Skriet,
Gang Green,
Grandmaster Flash,
Donald Byrd,
Marmalade,
Easy Going,
Deakin,
The New Christs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Alice Coltrane,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Siglo XX,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Angels of Light,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Man Eating Sloth,
Public Image Ltd.,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Walker Brothers,
John Lydon,
Dead Boys,
Roxy Music,
Robert Wyatt,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.