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 Guinea-Bissau and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Glambeats Corp. to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agitation Free,
Unwound,
Khruangbin,
Slick Rick,
China Crisis,
Boredoms,
Monks,
The Black Dice,
Gong,
Rod Modell,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sister Nancy,
Frankie Knuckles,
kango's stein massive,
The Grass Roots,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Index,
JFA,
Carl Craig,
The Trojans,
MDC,
Darondo,
The Monochrome Set,
Nick Fraelich,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marmalade,
Zapp,
Judy Mowatt,
Roy Ayers,
Pagans,
the Swans,
Funky Four + One,
Black Moon,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lower 48,
Bobby Sherman,
AZ,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Techniques,
Janne Schatter,
Shuggie Otis,
Terry Callier,
Young Marble Giants,
Susan Cadogan,
Oblivians,
June of 44,
The Angels of Light,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Radio Birdman,
The Pop Group,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Wake,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ituana,
Eli Mardock,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Cramps,
Roger Hodgson,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith.
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.