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 Jordan and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 EPMD to the rap 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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All the Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
John Coltrane,
Hashim,
Throbbing Gristle,
Stiv Bators,
Quantec,
Alton Ellis,
Eve St. Jones,
Mission of Burma,
Mars,
Dennis Brown,
Junior Murvin,
Wings,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fugazi,
The Move,
Robert Hood,
John Foxx,
Mo-Dettes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jeff Mills,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
New Order,
the Normal,
The Fortunes,
The Neon Judgement,
Lakeside,
10cc,
Duran Duran,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Albert Ayler,
The Five Americans,
H. Thieme,
Ornette Coleman,
Model 500,
L. Decosne,
Popol Vuh,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Don Cherry,
Connie Case,
Tommy Roe,
John Lydon,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
John Holt,
Silicon Teens,
Freddie Wadling,
Khruangbin,
Reuben Wilson,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lee Hazlewood,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Isaac Hayes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Theoretical Girls,
Rites of Spring,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.