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 Namibia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 organ 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Toni Rubio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Avey Tare,
Gang of Four,
Robert Wyatt,
the Swans,
Oneida,
Ash Ra Tempel,
In Retrospect,
Aaron Thompson,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Smoke,
Lou Christie,
The Raincoats,
ABC,
Stereo Dub,
The Red Krayola,
Joensuu 1685,
The Alarm Clocks,
Absolute Body Control,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
R.M.O.,
Sam Rivers,
T.S.O.L.,
Agitation Free,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Selecter,
The Five Americans,
Nirvana,
Marvin Gaye,
Zero Boys,
Drexciya,
Kurtis Blow,
Vainqueur,
The Stooges,
Intrusion,
Make Up,
Unwound,
Oblivians,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cameo,
Parry Music,
Magma,
Marcia Griffiths,
Radiopuhelimet,
Motorama,
Moebius,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Radio Birdman,
Banda Bassotti,
Flipper,
Index,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Doobie Brothers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Derrick May,
Bang On A Can,
Junior Murvin,
The Searchers,
Angry Samoans,
James White and The Blacks,
Thee Headcoats,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.