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 Ghana and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the marimba 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 Alton Ellis to the jazz 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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Minor Threat,
The Leaves,
Fugazi,
Goldenarms,
48th St. Collective,
Junior Murvin,
Echospace,
Minnie Riperton,
The Tremeloes,
Hardrive,
Groovy Waters,
Moby Grape,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Angry Samoans,
Main Source,
Rapeman,
Ornette Coleman,
The Music Machine,
Grauzone,
The Moody Blues,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rakim,
Ronnie Foster,
Lucky Dragons,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gang Starr,
Man Parrish,
Joe Finger,
Letta Mbulu,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jacob Miller,
Black Flag,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Cure,
Model 500,
Masters at Work,
Roy Ayers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Grey Daturas,
The Golliwogs,
Make Up,
Rufus Thomas,
Mission of Burma,
Bronski Beat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Aural Exciters,
Pole,
Dorothy Ashby,
David McCallum,
Jeff Mills,
Gabor Szabo,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Sonics,
Panda Bear,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Rites of Spring,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.