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 Nigeria and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 snare 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 Happenings 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Matthew Halsall,
Negative Approach,
Johnny Clarke,
The Red Krayola,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gang Gang Dance,
Steve Hackett,
Simply Red,
T. Rex,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Half Japanese,
Young Marble Giants,
Barbara Tucker,
Hoover,
Oneida,
Spandau Ballet,
Arthur Verocai,
Black Bananas,
Gabor Szabo,
Television Personalities,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Scientists,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Soft Cell,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Aswad,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sugar Minott,
Archie Shepp,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Accadde A,
The Buckinghams,
Todd Terry,
The Sonics,
the Sonics,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Skaos,
James White and The Blacks,
Sällskapet,
Siglo XX,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Fire Engines,
Dorothy Ashby,
Soft Machine,
Cybotron,
Bobby Sherman,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ohio Players,
Judy Mowatt,
The Names,
Hardrive,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Michelle Simonal,
Gil Scott Heron,
Loose Ends,
Blossom Toes,
Depeche Mode,
The Saints,
8 Eyed Spy,
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.