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 Georgia and from Cairo.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 theremin 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Standells. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eyeless In Gaza record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moss Icon,
Jacques Brel,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Black Sheep,
Trumans Water,
Slick Rick,
Technova,
The Last Poets,
Sight & Sound,
Symarip,
Maleditus Sound,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Beau Brummels,
The Saints,
Hardrive,
The Martian,
The Tremeloes,
Kenny Larkin,
The Busters,
X-102,
Quando Quango,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Slits,
Roxy Music,
Joyce Sims,
The Smoke,
Mary Jane Girls,
Basic Channel,
Brick,
Groovy Waters,
David Axelrod,
Con Funk Shun,
Charles Mingus,
Peter and Kerry,
The Index,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Dawn Penn,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Donald Byrd,
Matthew Bourne,
Khruangbin,
The Dead C,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Fire Engines,
Radio Birdman,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Carl Craig,
The Moody Blues,
Panda Bear,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ponytail,
Lungfish,
Prince Buster,
The Moleskins,
the Bar-Kays,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
David Bowie,
Sam Rivers,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.