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 Djibouti and from Taipei.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gabor Szabo to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Kas Product tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Liliput,
Camouflage,
The Remains,
Kenny Larkin,
Amon Düül II,
Arthur Verocai,
Harmonia,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Wake,
Scion,
T.S.O.L.,
Motorama,
Public Enemy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Khruangbin,
Bad Manners,
Curtis Mayfield,
Marc Almond,
Johnny Clarke,
Lower 48,
Sixth Finger,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Kinks,
Al Stewart,
Judy Mowatt,
Glenn Branca,
Black Moon,
Pagans,
Interpol,
Gang Green,
Tommy Roe,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
LL Cool J,
Scan 7,
Franke,
Icehouse,
EPMD,
Popol Vuh,
The Barracudas,
Soulsonic Force,
Fear,
Dorothy Ashby,
Camberwell Now,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tom Boy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Oneida,
Gang of Four,
ABC,
Radio Birdman,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Tremeloes,
Aswad,
The Young Rascals,
F. McDonald,
Audionom,
Spoonie Gee,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.