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 Antigua and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Slave to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Deepchord. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sunsets and Hearts record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
Hashim,
Lakeside,
Monks,
The Slits,
The Trojans,
Eurythmics,
Archie Shepp,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
John Coltrane,
Joe Finger,
Eric Dolphy,
Todd Rundgren,
Gang Green,
DNA,
Spandau Ballet,
Carl Craig,
Rakim,
The Neon Judgement,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The United States of America,
Yaz,
Surgeon,
Warren Ellis,
Prince Buster,
The Cowsills,
The Dirtbombs,
New Age Steppers,
Janne Schatter,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Public Image Ltd.,
Black Bananas,
June Days,
Pussy Galore,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Music Machine,
The Angels of Light,
48th St. Collective,
X-101,
Rotary Connection,
This Heat,
Al Stewart,
T.S.O.L.,
Pole,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Slackers,
Donny Hathaway,
Joy Division,
Kas Product,
Ten City,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Peter & Gordon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Knickerbockers,
Pylon,
Intrusion,
Bill Near,
The Move,
Minnie Riperton,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.