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 Jamaica and from Madrid.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 rhodes 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 The Raincoats to the rap 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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice 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?
Bad Manners,
The Velvet Underground,
The Martian,
Michelle Simonal,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Boredoms,
Pierre Henry,
The Remains,
LL Cool J,
Tropical Tobacco,
Amon Düül II,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Make Up,
Radiopuhelimet,
Loose Ends,
Soul II Soul,
Kevin Saunderson,
Talk Talk,
Isaac Hayes,
Swell Maps,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dead Boys,
Lee Hazlewood,
Reagan Youth,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Sonics,
Index,
The Raincoats,
Clear Light,
Rekid,
Harry Pussy,
Chris Corsano,
Crash Course in Science,
EPMD,
Pussy Galore,
The American Breed,
10cc,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Trumans Water,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
X-101,
Brass Construction,
Agitation Free,
Judy Mowatt,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gerry Rafferty,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gabor Szabo,
Flash Fearless,
Tears for Fears,
Stetsasonic,
Audionom,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Wake,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Trojans,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo.
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.