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 Swaziland and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
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 KRS-One to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lakeside record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
The Durutti Column,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Sound,
Malaria!,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Procol Harum,
Mark Hollis,
Lindisfarne,
Black Moon,
Jacques Brel,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Audionom,
Danielle Patucci,
The Fall,
Spoonie Gee,
The Birthday Party,
Black Bananas,
Byron Stingily,
DNA,
The Grass Roots,
The Fugs,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Dirtbombs,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Names,
Delta 5,
Kayak,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Divine Comedy,
Dennis Brown,
Pere Ubu,
Brick,
Steve Hackett,
Maurizio,
Monks,
Joe Smooth,
Godley & Creme,
Bobby Byrd,
Mandrill,
La Düsseldorf,
Newcleus,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Residents,
Moss Icon,
The Index,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pulsallama,
China Crisis,
Patti Smith,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Television Personalities,
Au Pairs,
Country Teasers,
Piero Umiliani,
Davy DMX,
The Techniques,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.