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 Estonia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 808 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 Electric Prunes to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yusef Lateef record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
X-102,
Ultra Naté,
David McCallum,
Amazonics,
Amon Düül II,
Banda Bassotti,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Techniques,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Dead C,
LL Cool J,
The Flesh Eaters,
James White and The Blacks,
Make Up,
Frankie Knuckles,
Graham Central Station,
Henry Cow,
Barclay James Harvest,
Groovy Waters,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Charles Mingus,
The Zeros,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marmalade,
This Heat,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Au Pairs,
New Age Steppers,
Section 25,
The Red Krayola,
Gong,
Rufus Thomas,
Cluster,
Boredoms,
The Moody Blues,
Scrapy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Livin' Joy,
The Busters,
The Durutti Column,
Newcleus,
Crispy Ambulance,
Robert Hood,
John Cale,
Prince Buster,
Laurel Aitken,
JFA,
Parry Music,
John Lydon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ronnie Foster,
John Coltrane,
Rod Modell,
Tubeway Army,
Intrusion,
Tommy Roe,
Electric Prunes,
Eric Dolphy,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.