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 Mali and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the jazz 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 The Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
The Smoke,
The Music Machine,
The Saints,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
cv313,
Youth Brigade,
Donald Byrd,
Sexual Harrassment,
Alphaville,
Marcia Griffiths,
Chris & Cosey,
Kurtis Blow,
Graham Central Station,
Urselle,
Inner City,
Nils Olav,
Bobby Womack,
Delta 5,
Shoche,
Susan Cadogan,
Crooked Eye,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Siglo XX,
Eve St. Jones,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Curtis Mayfield,
FM Einheit,
Camouflage,
Von Mondo,
Echospace,
X-101,
Animal Collective,
Marvin Gaye,
Cymande,
Connie Case,
JFA,
Sparks,
The Sound,
Metal Thangz,
This Heat,
Can,
Hasil Adkins,
The Happenings,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Shuggie Otis,
Minor Threat,
D'Angelo,
Aswad,
John Lydon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Prince Buster,
Lalo Schifrin,
Average White Band,
Qualms,
Boredoms,
L. Decosne,
Skaos,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.