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 Pakistan and from Lille.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the disco 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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Scan 7,
Hot Snakes,
MC5,
Lakeside,
The Durutti Column,
a-ha,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mission of Burma,
DNA,
The Modern Lovers,
DJ Sneak,
Joy Division,
Andrew Hill,
Average White Band,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Supertramp,
The Vogues,
Rosa Yemen,
Bob Dylan,
Rekid,
Big Daddy Kane,
Black Moon,
The Black Dice,
Harpers Bizarre,
Simply Red,
Harry Pussy,
Mo-Dettes,
Monks,
Nas,
Yusef Lateef,
Black Bananas,
Robert Wyatt,
Royal Trux,
Black Flag,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Whodini,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Radiohead,
Liliput,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pagans,
John Lydon,
Amon Düül,
Althea and Donna,
Fatback Band,
Metal Thangz,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kevin Saunderson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gang Starr,
David Bowie,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sandy B,
Faraquet,
Danielle Patucci,
Faust,
Bang On A Can,
Lebanon Hanover,
Toni Rubio,
Agent Orange,
the Bar-Kays,
Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew.
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.