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 Barbados and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Chrome to the grime 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
Amon Düül,
Black Flag,
kango's stein massive,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Searchers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pere Ubu,
Scion,
Chris Corsano,
Big Daddy Kane,
Slave,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Michelle Simonal,
Sun City Girls,
The Remains,
Kayak,
Das Ding,
Mad Mike,
Stiv Bators,
Tropical Tobacco,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Busters,
Barrington Levy,
Yellowson,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Procol Harum,
The Blues Magoos,
Josef K,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Guru Guru,
Index,
Black Sheep,
Blake Baxter,
D'Angelo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Groovy Waters,
Dual Sessions,
Scott Walker,
Slick Rick,
Thompson Twins,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Smog,
Grandmaster Flash,
H. Thieme,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Harry Pussy,
The Gladiators,
Wasted Youth,
Sugar Minott,
Joe Finger,
The Fire Engines,
The Evens,
Blancmange,
Piero Umiliani,
Monolake,
Moss Icon,
Yusef Lateef,
Lightning Bolt,
Swell Maps,
Subhumans,
Danielle Patucci,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.