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 Swaziland and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 the Fania All-Stars to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
The Leaves,
Pulsallama,
Skaos,
Sister Nancy,
New Order,
Index,
Suicide,
Mission of Burma,
Matthew Bourne,
Bang On A Can,
Bill Near,
Wolf Eyes,
Brand Nubian,
Duran Duran,
Howard Jones,
Zero Boys,
The Saints,
The Moody Blues,
Fugazi,
Ituana,
The Fuzztones,
Scott Walker,
One Last Wish,
The Seeds,
Rotary Connection,
Toni Rubio,
Scion,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Loose Ends,
Derrick Morgan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kerri Chandler,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
48th St. Collective,
The Fortunes,
Banda Bassotti,
Hasil Adkins,
Moebius,
Lungfish,
Aural Exciters,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Goldenarms,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mark Hollis,
Ultravox,
The Trojans,
New Age Steppers,
Crash Course in Science,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Graham Central Station,
The Index,
cv313,
Ultra Naté,
Gichy Dan,
F. McDonald,
R.M.O.,
Skarface,
Ohio Players,
Urselle,
Pharoah Sanders,
Prince Buster,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.