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 St Lucia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Agent Orange to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hashim,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cecil Taylor,
The Cure,
Brand Nubian,
Whodini,
Cybotron,
The Blackbyrds,
Jacob Miller,
The Associates,
Flipper,
Sällskapet,
Scion,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sun City Girls,
DJ Sneak,
The Sound,
Stiv Bators,
Roy Ayers,
Lalann,
Mad Mike,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sister Nancy,
Joey Negro,
Bill Wells,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Shuggie Otis,
Ronnie Foster,
Cluster,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
A Certain Ratio,
Aswad,
Grey Daturas,
Skarface,
John Foxx,
Subhumans,
Stetsasonic,
The Gladiators,
Model 500,
Rekid,
X-101,
Warren Ellis,
Wire,
Stockholm Monsters,
Theoretical Girls,
ABC,
Charles Mingus,
Andrew Hill,
Minutemen,
Jimmy McGriff,
UT,
Simply Red,
Fugazi,
Fela Kuti,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Monks,
Alison Limerick,
Wings,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.