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 Djibouti and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 theremin 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 The Mojo Men to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Pussy Galore,
The Five Americans,
Lakeside,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scientists,
Skaos,
The Sound,
Terry Callier,
Japan,
Fela Kuti,
Sonic Youth,
K-Klass,
The Standells,
Johnny Clarke,
The Selecter,
Ponytail,
Gabor Szabo,
Can,
Nas,
Average White Band,
MC5,
Saccharine Trust,
Morten Harket,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Desert Stars,
Urselle,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bob Dylan,
New Order,
Peter & Gordon,
Funkadelic,
The Monochrome Set,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Amazonics,
The Evens,
Mr. Review,
The United States of America,
Jeru the Damaja,
Prince Buster,
The Tremeloes,
Rufus Thomas,
Technova,
Bobby Hutcherson,
DNA,
D'Angelo,
Moebius,
The Fuzztones,
Max Romeo,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Brothers Johnson,
Robert Hood,
Marshall Jefferson,
Public Enemy,
Fear,
Porter Ricks,
One Last Wish,
Bronski Beat,
Wasted Youth,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.