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 Paraguay and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Morten Harket to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
The Martian,
Gastr Del Sol,
Harmonia,
The Black Dice,
Clear Light,
Supertramp,
The Offenders,
Royal Trux,
Animal Collective,
Idris Muhammad,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The American Breed,
Sex Pistols,
Mars,
John Lydon,
Amazonics,
Unwound,
Theoretical Girls,
The Names,
UT,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Essential Logic,
Godley & Creme,
The Index,
Bobby Womack,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Slits,
Lindisfarne,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Alton Ellis,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Inner City,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Gladiators,
LL Cool J,
The Wake,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jimmy McGriff,
John Coltrane,
The Grass Roots,
Nico,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Nation of Ulysses,
Slick Rick,
Echospace,
JFA,
Connie Case,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
David Bowie,
Q and Not U,
Tom Boy,
Don Cherry,
Boredoms,
Sonic Youth,
The Happenings,
Ohio Players,
Thompson Twins,
Nils Olav,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.