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 Ireland and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 48th St. Collective to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Nas. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
Scion,
The Evens,
Jacob Miller,
MC5,
Mr. Review,
Marine Girls,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dead Boys,
Laurel Aitken,
Newcleus,
The Fuzztones,
The Motions,
Aswad,
CMW,
Alice Coltrane,
Cluster,
Chris Corsano,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kayak,
E-Dancer,
Amon Düül,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Outsiders,
Grey Daturas,
Interpol,
Faraquet,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Wally Richardson,
Moby Grape,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Skaos,
Roy Ayers,
Deepchord,
The Index,
Anakelly,
Alphaville,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Durutti Column,
Suburban Knight,
Yaz,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Joensuu 1685,
The Slackers,
The Fortunes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bang On A Can,
Brand Nubian,
Shuggie Otis,
Trumans Water,
Jacques Brel,
Rites of Spring,
Sarah Menescal,
Dual Sessions,
Malaria!,
Fat Boys,
Heaven 17,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.