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 Syria and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
World's Most,
Marvin Gaye,
The Cowsills,
Mo-Dettes,
the Bar-Kays,
Amon Düül,
Reagan Youth,
Zapp,
Little Man,
Jeru the Damaja,
Scan 7,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Con Funk Shun,
Avey Tare,
Simply Red,
Arab on Radar,
The Alarm Clocks,
B.T. Express,
This Heat,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Flipper,
Terry Callier,
Joe Finger,
Drexciya,
Gabor Szabo,
MC5,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Section 25,
The Dirtbombs,
Marshall Jefferson,
JFA,
The Blues Magoos,
Gang Starr,
Main Source,
Wally Richardson,
Matthew Halsall,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Warsaw,
Dave Gahan,
The Leaves,
the Association,
New Age Steppers,
Harry Pussy,
Average White Band,
Tim Buckley,
Byron Stingily,
Mandrill,
Aswad,
Babytalk,
The Martian,
Funky Four + One,
D'Angelo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Amazonics,
Todd Terry,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kerrie Biddell,
China Crisis,
Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord.
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.