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 Uganda and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 snare 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 Eden Ahbez to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Swell Maps. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a LL Cool J record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Sparks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bootsy Collins,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lakeside,
Joey Negro,
Audionom,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Arthur Verocai,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gang Green,
Brick,
Robert Wyatt,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ludus,
Fat Boys,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Yusef Lateef,
Byron Stingily,
Little Man,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Depeche Mode,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Sonics,
48th St. Collective,
John Cale,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Association,
Joyce Sims,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
CMW,
Boogie Down Productions,
In Retrospect,
Angry Samoans,
Absolute Body Control,
Aloha Tigers,
Quando Quango,
Thee Headcoats,
Rufus Thomas,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Mojo Men,
The Mummies,
D'Angelo,
T.S.O.L.,
Mary Jane Girls,
K-Klass,
Adolescents,
Pantytec,
Liliput,
Rotary Connection,
Soul II Soul,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.