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 Slovakia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs 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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
Tomorrow,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Vainqueur,
Moss Icon,
Davy DMX,
Josef K,
Susan Cadogan,
David McCallum,
Derrick May,
Rosa Yemen,
John Holt,
Pantaleimon,
Prince Buster,
New Order,
Funkadelic,
Pylon,
Black Sheep,
Faust,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rites of Spring,
X-Ray Spex,
Joe Finger,
The Litter,
Grandmaster Flash,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Agent Orange,
Mars,
The Standells,
the Slits,
Sixth Finger,
Newcleus,
the Human League,
Dual Sessions,
Procol Harum,
Graham Central Station,
The Skatalites,
Ronan,
Joey Negro,
The American Breed,
Angry Samoans,
The Music Machine,
Dave Gahan,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gang Green,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Wake,
James Chance & The Contortions,
F. McDonald,
Marvin Gaye,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Boogie Down Productions,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kevin Saunderson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Matthew Halsall,
Arcadia,
ABBA,
Whodini,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.