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 Vanuatu and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Mexico City and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Andrew Hill to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Archie Shepp,
E-Dancer,
Faraquet,
Minnie Riperton,
Derrick Morgan,
Todd Rundgren,
Don Cherry,
The Neon Judgement,
Amon Düül II,
Prince Buster,
The Durutti Column,
The Wake,
Essential Logic,
Sex Pistols,
The Blackbyrds,
Mad Mike,
kango's stein massive,
Unwound,
Main Source,
Lungfish,
New Age Steppers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Deepchord,
Urselle,
Sarah Menescal,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Second Layer,
Pagans,
Jawbox,
John Cale,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Television Personalities,
Skaos,
The Sound,
The Tremeloes,
Crooked Eye,
Fat Boys,
The Birthday Party,
Neil Young,
Bauhaus,
Adolescents,
Mars,
The Gun Club,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
D'Angelo,
Sister Nancy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobby Womack,
Andrew Hill,
Pylon,
Sam Rivers,
Zapp,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Bar-Kays,
Joe Finger,
Heaven 17,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Real Kids,
Subhumans,
The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band.
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.