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 Iraq and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Donald Byrd 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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Brothers Johnson,
Fad Gadget,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cal Tjader,
Lightning Bolt,
Altered Images,
Accadde A,
Joe Smooth,
Minnie Riperton,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Aaron Thompson,
Agitation Free,
Patti Smith,
Tres Demented,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jawbox,
Bill Near,
Dark Day,
New York Dolls,
The Smiths,
Pierre Henry,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
John Lydon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Monolake,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Dennis Brown,
The Saints,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Frankie Knuckles,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kenny Larkin,
FM Einheit,
Donny Hathaway,
The Electric Prunes,
Godley & Creme,
Brand Nubian,
Y Pants,
F. McDonald,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ultravox,
Colin Newman,
Das Ding,
Yaz,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bauhaus,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Aswad,
Bill Wells,
The Searchers,
Agent Orange,
Sugar Minott,
Ken Boothe,
MC5,
Radio Birdman,
The Selecter,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.