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 Kiribati and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and London.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Mojo Men to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
The Litter,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Young Rascals,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Index,
the Slits,
Barry Ungar,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Leonard Cohen,
Au Pairs,
Sugar Minott,
Slick Rick,
Royal Trux,
Kayak,
Rod Modell,
Blossom Toes,
the Sonics,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Offenders,
Rakim,
a-ha,
Derrick Morgan,
The Kinks,
Jacques Brel,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Marmalade,
Piero Umiliani,
The Remains,
Organ,
Todd Terry,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Minor Threat,
John Coltrane,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cecil Taylor,
Shuggie Otis,
Glambeats Corp.,
Funky Four + One,
cv313,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Red Krayola,
Marcia Griffiths,
Donny Hathaway,
Fear,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
L. Decosne,
The Walker Brothers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Section 25,
Moss Icon,
Motorama,
Ludus,
The Busters,
Gong,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Motions,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.