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 Tuvalu and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Vogues to the punk 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Adolescents,
the Fania All-Stars,
Althea and Donna,
Roxy Music,
John Cale,
Chris Corsano,
DJ Style,
The Dead C,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Peter & Gordon,
The Divine Comedy,
Slave,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ultra Naté,
Josef K,
Hardrive,
Howard Jones,
Mark Hollis,
Barbara Tucker,
The Blues Magoos,
Zero Boys,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Idris Muhammad,
Iggy Pop,
Brick,
Kas Product,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Dirtbombs,
Livin' Joy,
Derrick May,
Skriet,
Buzzcocks,
Black Flag,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
John Lydon,
The Index,
Schoolly D,
Marine Girls,
Bobby Sherman,
The Wake,
Pere Ubu,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Barrington Levy,
X-Ray Spex,
Funkadelic,
Harry Pussy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lucky Dragons,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Offenders,
Q65,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Aswad,
Tears for Fears,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.