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 South Africa and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Fluxion to the crunk 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 Joe Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken 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 '70s 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 Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Brothers Johnson,
Unrelated Segments,
DJ Style,
Godley & Creme,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Subhumans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Dead Boys,
Radiohead,
Tom Boy,
The Walker Brothers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Surgeon,
Tears for Fears,
Nils Olav,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Au Pairs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Minnie Riperton,
Shuggie Otis,
Gong,
Harpers Bizarre,
Avey Tare,
Iggy Pop,
The Mummies,
Electric Prunes,
Roy Ayers,
Josef K,
Joensuu 1685,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eric Copeland,
June Days,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Golliwogs,
Soft Machine,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Harry Pussy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Magma,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Angels of Light,
The Music Machine,
Sun City Girls,
Scratch Acid,
The Moody Blues,
Todd Rundgren,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jacob Miller,
The Gun Club,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Sound,
Quantec,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Toasters,
Bizarre Inc.,
Cheater Slicks,
Jerry's Kids,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gastr Del Sol,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
R.M.O.,
The Motions,
Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet.
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.