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 Bolivia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Eric Dolphy to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Yaz,
Kaleidoscope,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gang Starr,
MDC,
Mo-Dettes,
Tres Demented,
The Durutti Column,
Black Sheep,
Sound Behaviour,
The Trojans,
Pylon,
8 Eyed Spy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Toasters,
Ituana,
Gerry Rafferty,
Flipper,
Nas,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mandrill,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lucky Dragons,
Japan,
Boz Scaggs,
Circle Jerks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Heaven 17,
Bootsy Collins,
Isaac Hayes,
Slave,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lower 48,
Mad Mike,
Bizarre Inc.,
Talk Talk,
Vladislav Delay,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Panda Bear,
Graham Central Station,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The J.B.'s,
Roxy Music,
The Modern Lovers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Stiv Bators,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Joyce Sims,
Amon Düül II,
The Pretty Things,
Yusef Lateef,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Davy DMX,
Pere Ubu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dave Gahan,
Nik Kershaw,
The Last Poets,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.