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 Lesotho and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Thee Headcoats to the crunk 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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drive Like Jehu 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Lindisfarne,
The Slits,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eurythmics,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Selecter,
The Vogues,
Ken Boothe,
John Holt,
Skaos,
The Dead C,
Parry Music,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Velvet Underground,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Warsaw,
Kurtis Blow,
Sight & Sound,
The Offenders,
The Mummies,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tommy Roe,
Sugar Minott,
The Toasters,
Monks,
Unrelated Segments,
the Swans,
Yaz,
Khruangbin,
Rosa Yemen,
Tom Boy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Patti Smith,
Oblivians,
The Monochrome Set,
Janne Schatter,
Accadde A,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bill Near,
Barrington Levy,
Aloha Tigers,
Youth Brigade,
Davy DMX,
Harmonia,
Mars,
Quadrant,
Wire,
DNA,
8 Eyed Spy,
Von Mondo,
T.S.O.L.,
New Order,
Funky Four + One,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Letta Mbulu,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fatback Band,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.