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 Sweden and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 arpeggiator 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 Harpers Bizarre to the techno 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 The Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Smooth,
Johnny Clarke,
Eve St. Jones,
Minor Threat,
The Trojans,
Lungfish,
Albert Ayler,
Hot Snakes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Robert Wyatt,
Television,
Panda Bear,
Pharoah Sanders,
Junior Murvin,
EPMD,
Letta Mbulu,
Fela Kuti,
Anthony Braxton,
Warsaw,
Kaleidoscope,
Leonard Cohen,
Excepter,
Glambeats Corp.,
David Axelrod,
Sight & Sound,
CMW,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Index,
Tropical Tobacco,
Symarip,
Barbara Tucker,
John Holt,
Vainqueur,
Skriet,
Q and Not U,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Bar-Kays,
Chrome,
The Searchers,
The Seeds,
The Move,
The Wake,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fat Boys,
Tim Buckley,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Terrestrial Tones,
Alice Coltrane,
Sonic Youth,
The Names,
The Modern Lovers,
Pantytec,
Underground Resistance,
Marine Girls,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jimmy McGriff,
Derrick Morgan,
Funkadelic,
Index,
Lucky Dragons,
Cal Tjader,
Outsiders,
Circle Jerks,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.