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 Israel and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Crime to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
Excepter,
Unwound,
Siglo XX,
Little Man,
Fad Gadget,
Cybotron,
Aswad,
Maurizio,
Ice-T,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Zero Boys,
Johnny Clarke,
ABC,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Fall,
Soul II Soul,
Spoonie Gee,
Franke,
Khruangbin,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Das Ding,
China Crisis,
Joe Finger,
Anakelly,
Jacques Brel,
The Trojans,
Bluetip,
Smog,
The Blackbyrds,
New Age Steppers,
Man Eating Sloth,
a-ha,
Lightning Bolt,
Brothers Johnson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Au Pairs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Hashim,
Josef K,
Dead Boys,
Wolf Eyes,
Kurtis Blow,
Rakim,
Patti Smith,
Deadbeat,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Pretty Things,
The Five Americans,
Iggy Pop,
Kerrie Biddell,
Guru Guru,
Magma,
Freddie Wadling,
Joyce Sims,
Stiv Bators,
B.T. Express,
Gregory Isaacs,
Absolute Body Control,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.