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 Ivory Coast and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Althea and Donna to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Slave,
Moby Grape,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Letta Mbulu,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gong,
Ken Boothe,
One Last Wish,
the Human League,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Camouflage,
The Smiths,
The Blues Magoos,
Monolake,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Black Bananas,
June of 44,
Bootsy Collins,
Nirvana,
The Names,
Altered Images,
Faraquet,
The Sonics,
Roy Ayers,
The Neon Judgement,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Yusef Lateef,
Von Mondo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Das Ding,
Oneida,
Masters at Work,
The Wake,
Angry Samoans,
Drive Like Jehu,
Livin' Joy,
Flipper,
Stetsasonic,
The Litter,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ponytail,
Roger Hodgson,
Organ,
Archie Shepp,
Lebanon Hanover,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eddi Front,
The Offenders,
Urselle,
Rotary Connection,
Bauhaus,
Marmalade,
Cal Tjader,
The Detroit Cobras,
Q65,
Black Flag,
Aloha Tigers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lyres,
Sister Nancy,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.