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 Montenegro and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 R.M.O. to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Laurel Aitken,
U.S. Maple,
Rekid,
Joe Smooth,
Yellowson,
The Velvet Underground,
the Human League,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Altered Images,
Arthur Verocai,
Traffic Nightmare,
Magma,
Lakeside,
Joensuu 1685,
Althea and Donna,
Jacques Brel,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tomorrow,
The Birthday Party,
Slave,
The Residents,
Funky Four + One,
The Motions,
Babytalk,
Lou Reed,
The Slits,
Lee Hazlewood,
Underground Resistance,
The Remains,
Dawn Penn,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Bananas,
Peter and Kerry,
The Seeds,
Henry Cow,
La Düsseldorf,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Andrew Hill,
Ultra Naté,
Trumans Water,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Pretty Things,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jeff Lynne,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Quadrant,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dennis Brown,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Skatalites,
Bootsy Collins,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
New Age Steppers,
Throbbing Gristle,
T.S.O.L.,
Camouflage,
Cecil Taylor,
Swell Maps,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.