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 Djibouti and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Brand Nubian to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Pere Ubu,
The Trojans,
Desert Stars,
Duran Duran,
Bobby Sherman,
Bluetip,
Scott Walker,
Sister Nancy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Doors,
Shoche,
China Crisis,
Bang On A Can,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Golliwogs,
Ronnie Foster,
Pole,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Metal Thangz,
Lower 48,
Monks,
Lyres,
Ronan,
Rekid,
Spoonie Gee,
The J.B.'s,
Gastr Del Sol,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lucky Dragons,
Surgeon,
Vainqueur,
Arcadia,
Grey Daturas,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rufus Thomas,
Theoretical Girls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Donny Hathaway,
Blancmange,
Robert Görl,
Sällskapet,
Minutemen,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Skarface,
Rosa Yemen,
Section 25,
Cameo,
The Moody Blues,
The Sonics,
The Music Machine,
Joey Negro,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Maleditus Sound,
Lindisfarne,
Supertramp,
Leonard Cohen,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.