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 Benin and from Jakarta.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 Wolf Eyes to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Scrapy,
Neu!,
Main Source,
China Crisis,
Spandau Ballet,
Half Japanese,
Wings,
Judy Mowatt,
Archie Shepp,
Black Moon,
Kaleidoscope,
Gang Starr,
The Fortunes,
Groovy Waters,
Franke,
The Real Kids,
X-Ray Spex,
Angry Samoans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Delon & Dalcan,
Jeff Lynne,
Eve St. Jones,
Sight & Sound,
L. Decosne,
The Doors,
The Evens,
Pussy Galore,
Shuggie Otis,
Khruangbin,
Darondo,
Hoover,
The Five Americans,
Joe Smooth,
Eden Ahbez,
The Trojans,
Lakeside,
Q65,
Amazonics,
Yaz,
Buzzcocks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jeff Mills,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Monks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Durutti Column,
Organ,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
DJ Style,
The Stooges,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Yusef Lateef,
Letta Mbulu,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.