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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Angry Samoans to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Gang Starr,
Public Enemy,
Henry Cow,
The Motions,
Soul II Soul,
Intrusion,
Quadrant,
Accadde A,
Bronski Beat,
The Cowsills,
Letta Mbulu,
Absolute Body Control,
Chris & Cosey,
The Music Machine,
Lyres,
Q and Not U,
The Tremeloes,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Roy Ayers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Trojans,
Rufus Thomas,
Sällskapet,
Deadbeat,
John Cale,
Subhumans,
the Sonics,
The Misunderstood,
The Doors,
Zapp,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Vainqueur,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Panda Bear,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Michelle Simonal,
Maleditus Sound,
cv313,
Leonard Cohen,
Youth Brigade,
Das Ding,
Shuggie Otis,
The Gun Club,
Flash Fearless,
The Fuzztones,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Nils Olav,
New York Dolls,
Stiv Bators,
Animal Collective,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Move,
Brass Construction,
The Divine Comedy,
Bobby Byrd,
New Order,
T. Rex,
Lindisfarne,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.