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 Nauru and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Schoolly D to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
The Dave Clark Five,
Hoover,
The Trojans,
Man Parrish,
Boredoms,
Todd Terry,
Television Personalities,
Main Source,
The Durutti Column,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Hot Snakes,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Victims,
Dual Sessions,
The Blues Magoos,
Dead Boys,
Saccharine Trust,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Desert Stars,
Roxette,
The Raincoats,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cybotron,
Pussy Galore,
Scientists,
Skarface,
Radio Birdman,
Whodini,
The Evens,
Deadbeat,
Aural Exciters,
Gichy Dan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Roy Ayers,
Cheater Slicks,
Wings,
Gabor Szabo,
Wasted Youth,
The Moody Blues,
Skriet,
The Music Machine,
Procol Harum,
Mr. Review,
Nils Olav,
Blancmange,
Pagans,
Porter Ricks,
AZ,
The Pretty Things,
Donny Hathaway,
The Dirtbombs,
Bill Near,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
John Coltrane,
Oneida,
Stereo Dub,
The Names,
Sister Nancy,
F. McDonald,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.