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 Monaco and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 rhodes 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 Eve St. Jones to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alton Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Association,
Popol Vuh,
Grey Daturas,
Anthony Braxton,
Rakim,
Sarah Menescal,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gabor Szabo,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Thompson Twins,
The Human League,
Urselle,
Motorama,
The Dirtbombs,
Gichy Dan,
Nils Olav,
Tears for Fears,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Trojans,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Soul Sonic Force,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bauhaus,
Symarip,
Soul II Soul,
John Foxx,
Grauzone,
Franke,
Donny Hathaway,
Dorothy Ashby,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bobby Byrd,
Mr. Review,
June Days,
The New Christs,
Monolake,
Dawn Penn,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pierre Henry,
X-101,
Swans,
Slave,
Sandy B,
Sexual Harrassment,
Roger Hodgson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Heaven 17,
Joey Negro,
Infiniti,
The Gun Club,
The Birthday Party,
Alison Limerick,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ultra Naté,
Colin Newman,
The Martian,
The Last Poets,
The Divine Comedy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Roy Ayers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.