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 Czech Republic and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Harry Pussy,
Gichy Dan,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lou Reed,
Flipper,
The Blackbyrds,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Buckinghams,
Max Romeo,
Chris Corsano,
DNA,
Intrusion,
Trumans Water,
The Last Poets,
Todd Terry,
Brand Nubian,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Black Flag,
Eve St. Jones,
Barry Ungar,
New Age Steppers,
The Index,
The Smoke,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Fear,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Charles Mingus,
Tears for Fears,
The Remains,
Kerrie Biddell,
Smog,
Bobby Byrd,
The Smiths,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Maurizio,
James White and The Blacks,
Bronski Beat,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Letta Mbulu,
Sex Pistols,
Scan 7,
The Selecter,
Silicon Teens,
Moby Grape,
Symarip,
Nation of Ulysses,
Japan,
Robert Wyatt,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lungfish,
Nik Kershaw,
Bobby Womack,
Marine Girls,
Erasure,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Agent Orange,
K-Klass,
Scratch Acid,
Rod Modell,
Pere Ubu,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.