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 Tajikistan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Toronto.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the funk 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Johnny Clarke,
Eddi Front,
The Fuzztones,
Jesper Dahlback,
Cybotron,
Brand Nubian,
Model 500,
Country Teasers,
Dead Boys,
Main Source,
Television Personalities,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Sonics,
Desert Stars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Theoretical Girls,
Nils Olav,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Qualms,
Joe Smooth,
10cc,
Mantronix,
Swans,
The Gories,
Man Eating Sloth,
Marcia Griffiths,
New York Dolls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rosa Yemen,
Talk Talk,
Scientists,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Crime,
Michelle Simonal,
Technova,
The Monochrome Set,
The Leaves,
Inner City,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kas Product,
Eric Copeland,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Surgeon,
Porter Ricks,
Tom Boy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sarah Menescal,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Happenings,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Boz Scaggs,
the Human League,
K-Klass,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Germs,
Arthur Verocai,
Eve St. Jones,
Minnie Riperton,
CMW,
The Selecter,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.