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 United States and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Index,
China Crisis,
Japan,
Eve St. Jones,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Amon Düül II,
Davy DMX,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Roxette,
E-Dancer,
David Bowie,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nico,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Remains,
Soft Cell,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Residents,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Tremeloes,
Crash Course in Science,
LL Cool J,
Glenn Branca,
The Red Krayola,
John Lydon,
Magma,
Tubeway Army,
Babytalk,
Minor Threat,
Accadde A,
Donald Byrd,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ice-T,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Grey Daturas,
Livin' Joy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minny Pops,
Idris Muhammad,
The Sonics,
Deepchord,
D'Angelo,
Tommy Roe,
Con Funk Shun,
The Gun Club,
Interpol,
Dawn Penn,
Yazoo,
Simply Red,
the Normal,
Von Mondo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
June of 44,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jesper Dahlback,
Boogie Down Productions,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.