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 Albania and from Paris.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 synthesizer 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 Cameo 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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Mummies,
Easy Going,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ornette Coleman,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Star Department,
The Gun Club,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sarah Menescal,
Hashim,
Ituana,
Marcia Griffiths,
Circle Jerks,
Kurtis Blow,
Japan,
Schoolly D,
The Electric Prunes,
Matthew Bourne,
Leonard Cohen,
Gichy Dan,
The Index,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gabor Szabo,
The Cure,
Junior Murvin,
Babytalk,
Camberwell Now,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Arcadia,
Joey Negro,
The Residents,
Bill Wells,
Sexual Harrassment,
Das Ding,
The Young Rascals,
Isaac Hayes,
Maurizio,
The Techniques,
Kool Moe Dee,
Aaron Thompson,
Colin Newman,
Sugar Minott,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Skarface,
Quantec,
One Last Wish,
X-102,
Fatback Band,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
UT,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Alphaville,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Slits,
Blossom Toes,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.