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 Romania and from Salvador.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes 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 '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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
John Lydon,
Amazonics,
Television Personalities,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kevin Saunderson,
Thee Headcoats,
Skaos,
The Tremeloes,
Laurel Aitken,
Bob Dylan,
Boz Scaggs,
Curtis Mayfield,
Connie Case,
Warren Ellis,
Gong,
The Mojo Men,
The Standells,
The Residents,
Erykah Badu,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gang Starr,
Ultravox,
Soulsonic Force,
Dual Sessions,
Erasure,
The Leaves,
Whodini,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Traffic Nightmare,
Todd Rundgren,
Unwound,
Nils Olav,
the Bar-Kays,
Loose Ends,
Yellowson,
The Toasters,
Shoche,
Groovy Waters,
John Foxx,
Kurtis Blow,
Donald Byrd,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Patti Smith,
Joey Negro,
Cecil Taylor,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Red Krayola,
The Kinks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
June of 44,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mary Jane Girls,
Heaven 17,
The Blackbyrds,
Ohio Players,
Aural Exciters,
the Sonics,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.