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 Mexico and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 clarinet 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Fatback Band,
This Heat,
The Sound,
Thee Headcoats,
Little Man,
Lou Reed,
the Soft Cell,
The Durutti Column,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bootsy Collins,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Junior Murvin,
Rapeman,
Goldenarms,
K-Klass,
48th St. Collective,
The Barracudas,
Jimmy McGriff,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Saints,
Essential Logic,
Schoolly D,
Neu!,
Byron Stingily,
Q65,
DJ Style,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Saccharine Trust,
Soft Cell,
Electric Prunes,
Camberwell Now,
Donald Byrd,
Masters at Work,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Black Pus,
Zero Boys,
Surgeon,
Wings,
Ronnie Foster,
Glenn Branca,
A Certain Ratio,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Red Krayola,
Agitation Free,
Reagan Youth,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Todd Terry,
Leonard Cohen,
Soul II Soul,
Kaleidoscope,
Model 500,
Rakim,
Boogie Down Productions,
Flipper,
Judy Mowatt,
The Happenings,
The Fire Engines,
Dorothy Ashby,
Smog,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.