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 Mozambique and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Fat Boys to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shuggie Otis,
World's Most,
Rotary Connection,
Bauhaus,
Andrew Hill,
Roy Ayers,
Soulsonic Force,
Dark Day,
Dennis Brown,
The Slits,
Ponytail,
Mars,
Brass Construction,
The Flesh Eaters,
Grandmaster Flash,
KRS-One,
Kaleidoscope,
Kool Moe Dee,
MC5,
Ohio Players,
Rufus Thomas,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dorothy Ashby,
Erykah Badu,
DJ Sneak,
Cameo,
Bootsy Collins,
Pere Ubu,
Severed Heads,
Bad Manners,
Joe Smooth,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ultimate Spinach,
Essential Logic,
the Bar-Kays,
T.S.O.L.,
John Lydon,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mad Mike,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Cure,
These Immortal Souls,
Pylon,
Girls At Our Best!,
Joy Division,
Moby Grape,
The Fall,
The Five Americans,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Skaos,
James White and The Blacks,
Derrick Morgan,
MDC,
Matthew Bourne,
The Kinks,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.