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 Liberia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Seoul.
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 marimba 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 Gabor Szabo to the funk 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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
The Mummies,
Intrusion,
Gang Green,
DJ Sneak,
Sun City Girls,
Index,
The Music Machine,
The Count Five,
The Slackers,
Skaos,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rapeman,
Gastr Del Sol,
Laurel Aitken,
Dorothy Ashby,
Motorama,
The Fall,
The Remains,
Glenn Branca,
Yazoo,
Make Up,
Interpol,
Ice-T,
The Mojo Men,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Yaz,
The Fire Engines,
Rekid,
LL Cool J,
Minnie Riperton,
Infiniti,
Pole,
Max Romeo,
Dark Day,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Blancmange,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dennis Brown,
Sister Nancy,
The Fuzztones,
Connie Case,
Sugar Minott,
Pantaleimon,
Bizarre Inc.,
Faraquet,
Kerrie Biddell,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Black Sheep,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Scion,
Boz Scaggs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Livin' Joy,
Marmalade,
Moebius,
Zapp,
Sällskapet,
Iggy Pop,
Das Ding,
Joe Smooth,
Lee Hazlewood,
Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685.
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.