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 Luxembourg and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Yellowson to the funk 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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Zero Boys,
Max Romeo,
The Victims,
Cymande,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gang of Four,
Donald Byrd,
Throbbing Gristle,
Davy DMX,
Joyce Sims,
June Days,
Graham Central Station,
Mr. Review,
Ituana,
Hoover,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dorothy Ashby,
La Düsseldorf,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lucky Dragons,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Mummies,
A Certain Ratio,
Fatback Band,
Ash Ra Tempel,
KRS-One,
The American Breed,
The Dead C,
Eric Dolphy,
Soft Machine,
Cybotron,
Tim Buckley,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ultra Naté,
Wally Richardson,
Jacob Miller,
Dave Gahan,
Desert Stars,
Aswad,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
PIL,
DJ Sneak,
Schoolly D,
K-Klass,
Scrapy,
John Foxx,
Dual Sessions,
Siglo XX,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bluetip,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Camberwell Now,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Real Kids,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.