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 Dominica and from Milan.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Woodstock.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro 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 Blossom Toes to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Urselle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Minor Threat,
E-Dancer,
Vainqueur,
Toni Rubio,
Man Eating Sloth,
Symarip,
The Shadows of Knight,
Public Enemy,
Young Marble Giants,
Soul II Soul,
the Swans,
Zero Boys,
Dawn Penn,
The Zeros,
Black Flag,
10cc,
Davy DMX,
Wasted Youth,
Ten City,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mr. Review,
The Blackbyrds,
AZ,
Slick Rick,
Delta 5,
Hasil Adkins,
The Young Rascals,
Marcia Griffiths,
Man Parrish,
Interpol,
Tres Demented,
Anakelly,
Gang of Four,
Television Personalities,
Black Pus,
The Moody Blues,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Moleskins,
Lyres,
The Misunderstood,
The Fugs,
Eurythmics,
Wally Richardson,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jacob Miller,
Sparks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Technova,
Bobby Hutcherson,
June of 44,
Japan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.