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 Kyrgyzstan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Dead C to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Howard Jones,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pierre Henry,
Josef K,
The Blackbyrds,
U.S. Maple,
Man Parrish,
Throbbing Gristle,
B.T. Express,
The Searchers,
Boredoms,
Marmalade,
Fat Boys,
Joy Division,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Five Americans,
Brand Nubian,
Letta Mbulu,
Pere Ubu,
Groovy Waters,
Matthew Bourne,
ABBA,
Quantec,
The Cure,
Bill Wells,
Hardrive,
Andrew Hill,
Royal Trux,
Black Bananas,
Delon & Dalcan,
AZ,
the Germs,
Skarface,
Kenny Larkin,
Boogie Down Productions,
Chris Corsano,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Move,
Aural Exciters,
The Zeros,
Blossom Toes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
David McCallum,
Silicon Teens,
The Evens,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Misunderstood,
T.S.O.L.,
Von Mondo,
A Certain Ratio,
Alphaville,
Funkadelic,
Lucky Dragons,
X-101,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rotary Connection,
The Dirtbombs,
Rapeman,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.