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 Laos and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 synthesizer 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 Ornette Coleman to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
Roy Ayers,
Harry Pussy,
Sällskapet,
Parry Music,
Bill Near,
Nick Fraelich,
Curtis Mayfield,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Star Department,
The Real Kids,
Chrome,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Aural Exciters,
Sister Nancy,
Black Flag,
Franke,
Henry Cow,
Bluetip,
Robert Görl,
Circle Jerks,
The Mummies,
MDC,
Lungfish,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eyeless In Gaza,
kango's stein massive,
The Gun Club,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Camouflage,
Joey Negro,
Index,
Q and Not U,
Sonic Youth,
Susan Cadogan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Young Rascals,
Fatback Band,
Niagra,
The J.B.'s,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Joy Division,
Terry Callier,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
June of 44,
Cameo,
The Selecter,
Andrew Hill,
Soft Machine,
Deakin,
Mr. Review,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Technova,
The Smoke,
Flipper,
The Index,
Ludus,
Wings,
Big Daddy Kane,
Adolescents,
Slave,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.