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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Lille.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ 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 Fela Kuti to the disco 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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and an arpeggiator 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 arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Lakeside,
Duran Duran,
Eric Copeland,
Ultravox,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Public Enemy,
Lalann,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Michelle Simonal,
Maurizio,
Mark Hollis,
Erykah Badu,
Matthew Bourne,
Prince Buster,
The Doors,
Joey Negro,
The Fuzztones,
Amazonics,
Heaven 17,
Alice Coltrane,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bill Near,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rod Modell,
The Beau Brummels,
Donny Hathaway,
the Bar-Kays,
Judy Mowatt,
Freddie Wadling,
Barclay James Harvest,
Camouflage,
Pierre Henry,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Durutti Column,
Sex Pistols,
Traffic Nightmare,
Soul II Soul,
Pagans,
The Young Rascals,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Modern Lovers,
Warren Ellis,
Hoover,
Brass Construction,
Lee Hazlewood,
Yellowson,
Tom Boy,
Cybotron,
H. Thieme,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Tropical Tobacco,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nas,
Livin' Joy,
Roger Hodgson,
48th St. Collective,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.