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 Jordan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Trumans Water record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Joe Smooth,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Oblivians,
Subhumans,
Radiopuhelimet,
Tom Boy,
The Moody Blues,
Silicon Teens,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Japan,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bob Dylan,
Fat Boys,
Todd Terry,
Mary Jane Girls,
X-101,
Quadrant,
Brick,
the Human League,
The Slackers,
Deadbeat,
Bang On A Can,
Aural Exciters,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
China Crisis,
PIL,
Boz Scaggs,
Cymande,
Scrapy,
Vladislav Delay,
Simply Red,
The Cowsills,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Robert Görl,
The Fire Engines,
Rakim,
Ice-T,
Lou Christie,
Hoover,
Suburban Knight,
The Litter,
Rapeman,
Sound Behaviour,
Yazoo,
Aaron Thompson,
The Standells,
The Index,
Byron Stingily,
Patti Smith,
Swell Maps,
Yusef Lateef,
Letta Mbulu,
James White and The Blacks,
Tears for Fears,
Laurel Aitken,
Lakeside,
Qualms,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Little Man,
The Wake,
Drexciya,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.