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 Nigeria and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Doors to the techno 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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Godley & Creme,
Davy DMX,
Supertramp,
Unwound,
Nico,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Robert Hood,
Graham Central Station,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jacques Brel,
Barrington Levy,
Cybotron,
Peter & Gordon,
Surgeon,
Gang Starr,
Electric Prunes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Piero Umiliani,
Skaos,
Spoonie Gee,
Lalo Schifrin,
Clear Light,
Boz Scaggs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lucky Dragons,
Bill Near,
The Techniques,
Nick Fraelich,
Harmonia,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Anakelly,
Grey Daturas,
The Remains,
Cluster,
Matthew Bourne,
Terry Callier,
Marcia Griffiths,
LL Cool J,
The Gories,
Lindisfarne,
Hasil Adkins,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rapeman,
Spandau Ballet,
Bootsy Collins,
Brass Construction,
The Shadows of Knight,
Todd Terry,
The Moleskins,
Toni Rubio,
T.S.O.L.,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
kango's stein massive,
The Red Krayola,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Frankie Knuckles,
Henry Cow,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.