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 Brazil and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 güiro 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 Tropical Tobacco to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Negative Approach. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Harmonia,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Aswad,
Erykah Badu,
R.M.O.,
Suburban Knight,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Con Funk Shun,
Robert Görl,
Agent Orange,
Warsaw,
The Move,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ten City,
The Saints,
Arab on Radar,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Robert Hood,
Technova,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Fatback Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Chrome,
Andrew Hill,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sonic Youth,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ronnie Foster,
Traffic Nightmare,
Deakin,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Charles Mingus,
Tubeway Army,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ultra Naté,
cv313,
Bluetip,
Bang On A Can,
Aural Exciters,
Skaos,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
FM Einheit,
The Fall,
Moebius,
Radio Birdman,
Albert Ayler,
The Skatalites,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
D'Angelo,
Harry Pussy,
MDC,
Delon & Dalcan,
Massinfluence,
X-Ray Spex,
Oblivians,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Cowsills,
Nation of Ulysses,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.