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 Nepal and from Lille.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Animal Collective to the grime 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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Max Romeo,
T.S.O.L.,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Hot Snakes,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Spoonie Gee,
The American Breed,
kango's stein massive,
Monolake,
Carl Craig,
The Neon Judgement,
Nirvana,
The Music Machine,
The Slits,
Cluster,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Fania All-Stars,
FM Einheit,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Grass Roots,
The Blues Magoos,
Flipper,
X-101,
Echospace,
Donald Byrd,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Spandau Ballet,
Sugar Minott,
Scrapy,
Niagra,
Nico,
Dennis Brown,
Roger Hodgson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Roxy Music,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
DNA,
Franke,
Bill Near,
Soul II Soul,
Talk Talk,
Joey Negro,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pagans,
R.M.O.,
Deakin,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Delta 5,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Beau Brummels,
CMW,
The Associates,
The Gun Club,
Camouflage,
Dorothy Ashby,
Black Bananas,
Stockholm Monsters,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.