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 Laos and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 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 Max Romeo to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Zero Boys. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Robert Hood,
Accadde A,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kayak,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lightning Bolt,
The Searchers,
Radiohead,
Absolute Body Control,
Ultra Naté,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Electric Prunes,
Blake Baxter,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pulsallama,
Fatback Band,
John Coltrane,
Freddie Wadling,
Bang On A Can,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Darondo,
Lakeside,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Japan,
Crash Course in Science,
Bobby Byrd,
Aural Exciters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
48th St. Collective,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Motorama,
Johnny Clarke,
Lindisfarne,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Fania All-Stars,
R.M.O.,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Last Poets,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scientists,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cal Tjader,
Ultravox,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Lydon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Tom Boy,
The Durutti Column,
Newcleus,
The Slits,
Khruangbin,
Chris & Cosey,
Sandy B,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gong,
Los Fastidios,
Arcadia,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.