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 Saudi Arabia and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Boogie Down Productions to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ken Boothe,
Deepchord,
Flipper,
Index,
Amon Düül,
Jerry's Kids,
Lou Reed,
Moss Icon,
Eli Mardock,
The Birthday Party,
Sam Rivers,
The Golliwogs,
Graham Central Station,
The Moody Blues,
Eric Dolphy,
The Young Rascals,
New York Dolls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Gories,
Suicide,
The Move,
Anthony Braxton,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Tres Demented,
MDC,
Cymande,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
June of 44,
Al Stewart,
The Walker Brothers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rakim,
Parry Music,
Deadbeat,
Vainqueur,
FM Einheit,
Josef K,
David McCallum,
Magma,
Yellowson,
Tubeway Army,
10cc,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Associates,
John Cale,
Skaos,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rekid,
The Residents,
Silicon Teens,
Bad Manners,
Mark Hollis,
Soft Machine,
Cheater Slicks,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.