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 Beijing.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 808 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 Darondo to the crunk 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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Little Man,
Robert Wyatt,
D'Angelo,
The Slackers,
Carl Craig,
Oneida,
Depeche Mode,
Black Moon,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Mighty Diamonds,
AZ,
Nils Olav,
The Monks,
Ice-T,
Graham Central Station,
Aswad,
Sonic Youth,
Siglo XX,
Inner City,
Iggy Pop,
Soft Machine,
Sonny Sharrock,
Mandrill,
Babytalk,
Organ,
Fad Gadget,
The Birthday Party,
Delon & Dalcan,
Skaos,
Joe Smooth,
Archie Shepp,
The Shadows of Knight,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mo-Dettes,
David Axelrod,
JFA,
Sound Behaviour,
Nas,
The Alarm Clocks,
Hashim,
Eurythmics,
The Count Five,
Jacques Brel,
Scratch Acid,
the Germs,
FM Einheit,
The Searchers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Talk Talk,
Fluxion,
Bobby Womack,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lungfish,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Deepchord,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Infiniti,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rapeman,
Mantronix,
Idris Muhammad,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.