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 East Timor and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 808 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 Big Daddy Kane to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Erasure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Alice Coltrane,
Deakin,
Jawbox,
Funkadelic,
Barrington Levy,
Cameo,
Sound Behaviour,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Busters,
Yellowson,
Stereo Dub,
Q and Not U,
The Walker Brothers,
Agitation Free,
The Blues Magoos,
Aswad,
Crispian St. Peters,
X-101,
Nils Olav,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Section 25,
Pantytec,
The Residents,
Pet Shop Boys,
Hot Snakes,
Roger Hodgson,
Sex Pistols,
Shuggie Otis,
Chris & Cosey,
Motorama,
Joy Division,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
R.M.O.,
Howard Jones,
Surgeon,
Chris Corsano,
Hasil Adkins,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lou Reed,
Franke,
Faraquet,
Leonard Cohen,
John Foxx,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ultra Naté,
Arthur Verocai,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kool Moe Dee,
Spoonie Gee,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Young Marble Giants,
kango's stein massive,
Reuben Wilson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
H. Thieme,
the Germs,
Cecil Taylor,
Mandrill,
June Days,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.