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 Honduras and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Aloha Tigers to the disco 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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Essential Logic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 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?
The Leaves,
Chrome,
Eurythmics,
Sister Nancy,
Porter Ricks,
Moby Grape,
Mr. Review,
Barbara Tucker,
Reuben Wilson,
Audionom,
Harry Pussy,
Negative Approach,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Echospace,
John Lydon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Boz Scaggs,
Matthew Halsall,
Bush Tetras,
The Fuzztones,
The Remains,
Absolute Body Control,
Funky Four + One,
Urselle,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Amazonics,
Loose Ends,
Lou Reed,
Malaria!,
John Cale,
Sandy B,
Tom Boy,
Brass Construction,
Tubeway Army,
cv313,
Slick Rick,
James White and The Blacks,
Bobby Byrd,
Kayak,
Slave,
Michelle Simonal,
Idris Muhammad,
Infiniti,
Man Parrish,
The Fortunes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Niagra,
Talk Talk,
Judy Mowatt,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mad Mike,
The Young Rascals,
Cymande,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jacob Miller,
Susan Cadogan,
Fela Kuti,
The Gories,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.