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 Tajikistan and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
48th St. Collective,
The Wake,
Average White Band,
Subhumans,
Pulsallama,
Minnie Riperton,
Minutemen,
Harry Pussy,
Todd Rundgren,
Quando Quango,
Clear Light,
Magma,
The Dave Clark Five,
John Coltrane,
Cymande,
The Fire Engines,
U.S. Maple,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ornette Coleman,
Big Daddy Kane,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Evens,
Arcadia,
Steve Hackett,
Newcleus,
Yazoo,
The Alarm Clocks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ohio Players,
Nico,
Ice-T,
PIL,
Ponytail,
Brass Construction,
Maleditus Sound,
Donald Byrd,
Eurythmics,
Amon Düül II,
Fela Kuti,
The Shadows of Knight,
Khruangbin,
Ludus,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bobby Byrd,
Fat Boys,
Byron Stingily,
the Bar-Kays,
Carl Craig,
Intrusion,
The Angels of Light,
Von Mondo,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Star Department,
Amazonics,
Black Flag,
Marc Almond,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.