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 Chad and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Parry Music to the rock 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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Erykah Badu,
James White and The Blacks,
One Last Wish,
The Mummies,
Wasted Youth,
Joy Division,
Eli Mardock,
Massinfluence,
Severed Heads,
K-Klass,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Hot Snakes,
The J.B.'s,
Soul Sonic Force,
Das Ding,
Minutemen,
Robert Hood,
The Real Kids,
Blossom Toes,
The Slackers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pagans,
Lightning Bolt,
Archie Shepp,
EPMD,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Television Personalities,
Lakeside,
a-ha,
Unrelated Segments,
John Holt,
Silicon Teens,
Model 500,
The Dirtbombs,
Funkadelic,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Oneida,
The Saints,
Byron Stingily,
Adolescents,
MC5,
Dave Gahan,
Drexciya,
B.T. Express,
Derrick May,
Loose Ends,
Sam Rivers,
Soul II Soul,
AZ,
Organ,
Harry Pussy,
Infiniti,
Joyce Sims,
DNA,
Cheater Slicks,
Minor Threat,
Goldenarms,
Amon Düül II,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Yaz,
The United States of America,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.