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 Maldives and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Hong Kong.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 Dark Day to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Accadde A,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Last Poets,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bang On A Can,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Spoonie Gee,
Idris Muhammad,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Invisible,
Crooked Eye,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Camberwell Now,
Andrew Hill,
Scrapy,
Jacob Miller,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Oneida,
Mandrill,
Mark Hollis,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rekid,
Ralphi Rosario,
Matthew Halsall,
Marshall Jefferson,
JFA,
Scion,
the Soft Cell,
Porter Ricks,
Joey Negro,
Public Enemy,
Q and Not U,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
E-Dancer,
The Moleskins,
The Monochrome Set,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Drexciya,
The New Christs,
Liliput,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Barry Ungar,
Niagra,
Todd Rundgren,
OOIOO,
The Young Rascals,
Anakelly,
Bluetip,
The Birthday Party,
Eli Mardock,
T.S.O.L.,
DNA,
Smog,
EPMD,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sound Behaviour,
The Smiths,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Camouflage,
The Evens,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Donald Byrd,
Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction.
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.