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 Angola and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Accra and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Barracudas to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Fuzztones,
The Evens,
Guru Guru,
Anakelly,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sexual Harrassment,
Roxette,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Star Department,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Isaac Hayes,
Flash Fearless,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fatback Band,
Soft Machine,
Panda Bear,
Model 500,
The Pretty Things,
Beasts of Bourbon,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marvin Gaye,
Symarip,
DJ Style,
Aural Exciters,
The Dave Clark Five,
48th St. Collective,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Albert Ayler,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Minor Threat,
Eric B and Rakim,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Neu!,
The Flesh Eaters,
Hasil Adkins,
Skriet,
The Last Poets,
Flipper,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Second Layer,
The Music Machine,
The New Christs,
Robert Görl,
The Sound,
Gichy Dan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fat Boys,
EPMD,
Procol Harum,
The Birthday Party,
Grauzone,
Funkadelic,
Moby Grape,
Gabor Szabo,
The Modern Lovers,
Janne Schatter,
Newcleus,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.