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 Kyrgyzstan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 mellotron 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Charles Mingus,
Pole,
Funky Four + One,
Bang On A Can,
John Cale,
Sam Rivers,
Vainqueur,
Fat Boys,
Pantaleimon,
The United States of America,
Chris Corsano,
Bobby Womack,
Mr. Review,
The Residents,
Morten Harket,
Das Ding,
U.S. Maple,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Soulsonic Force,
The Grass Roots,
June of 44,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Crooked Eye,
Severed Heads,
Chris & Cosey,
Trumans Water,
The Wake,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kenny Larkin,
Ken Boothe,
the Soft Cell,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Aloha Tigers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Liliput,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Gladiators,
Dennis Brown,
The Saints,
Big Daddy Kane,
Laurel Aitken,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Electric Prunes,
Average White Band,
Joyce Sims,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kevin Saunderson,
Delon & Dalcan,
Letta Mbulu,
The Leaves,
The Blackbyrds,
Rites of Spring,
KRS-One,
Maleditus Sound,
Bluetip,
The Seeds,
Davy DMX,
Goldenarms,
Angry Samoans,
Sparks,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.