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 Zambia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare 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 Cosmic Jokers 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Pole,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lindisfarne,
Eric B and Rakim,
Robert Hood,
Arcadia,
John Foxx,
Rapeman,
CMW,
Radio Birdman,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Associates,
Nas,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kurtis Blow,
Aloha Tigers,
Jawbox,
The Motions,
Moebius,
Sam Rivers,
Gang Green,
Second Layer,
Black Pus,
Gabor Szabo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Soft Cell,
Fatback Band,
Rod Modell,
June Days,
Blossom Toes,
Theoretical Girls,
One Last Wish,
The Residents,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Clear Light,
Isaac Hayes,
Crash Course in Science,
Au Pairs,
FM Einheit,
Bobby Womack,
Byron Stingily,
LL Cool J,
Matthew Bourne,
ABC,
Agent Orange,
Laurel Aitken,
The New Christs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Brass Construction,
Albert Ayler,
the Sonics,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Black Sheep,
Bronski Beat,
A Certain Ratio,
Big Daddy Kane,
David Bowie,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Fire Engines,
Junior Murvin,
D'Angelo,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.