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 Dominica and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 D'Angelo 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 The Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlback,
Main Source,
The Real Kids,
The Durutti Column,
Das Ding,
A Certain Ratio,
The Pretty Things,
Cal Tjader,
Sister Nancy,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Saints,
Yaz,
T. Rex,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Rhythm & Sound,
Young Marble Giants,
E-Dancer,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Velvet Underground,
Make Up,
Crash Course in Science,
Andrew Hill,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Liliput,
Eric B and Rakim,
Duran Duran,
The Selecter,
Country Teasers,
Fatback Band,
Angry Samoans,
Cheater Slicks,
Pierre Henry,
Stiv Bators,
The Last Poets,
Steve Hackett,
The Moleskins,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kas Product,
June Days,
Niagra,
Fela Kuti,
Lightning Bolt,
Charles Mingus,
Motorama,
Sun Ra,
Marshall Jefferson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Zeros,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Quantec,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dark Day,
Jandek,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Grandmaster Flash,
Prince Buster,
The Motions,
Sun City Girls,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.