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 Spain and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lagos.
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 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 Michael McDonald 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 Wally Richardson to the electroclash 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 Chris & Cosey. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One 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 mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a UT record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
In Retrospect,
Fugazi,
The Wake,
Erykah Badu,
Babytalk,
Rites of Spring,
Y Pants,
Man Parrish,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nico,
Alison Limerick,
Interpol,
Goldenarms,
Howard Jones,
Harpers Bizarre,
Das Ding,
New Age Steppers,
Lower 48,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Toasters,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Slits,
Bluetip,
The Misunderstood,
U.S. Maple,
Idris Muhammad,
Amon Düül,
The Leaves,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Q and Not U,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Animal Collective,
Boredoms,
The Martian,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Selecter,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
H. Thieme,
Scrapy,
Ponytail,
Sällskapet,
Bobby Sherman,
Mo-Dettes,
Drexciya,
The United States of America,
Stetsasonic,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Black Moon,
LL Cool J,
The Red Krayola,
Warsaw,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Skatalites,
Theoretical Girls,
The Five Americans,
Jacob Miller,
Pantytec,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.