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 Guinea-Bissau and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 rap 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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Au Pairs,
Fatback Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Gun Club,
Young Marble Giants,
Terry Callier,
Lyres,
Althea and Donna,
Gerry Rafferty,
Scientists,
The Selecter,
The J.B.'s,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Motorama,
Robert Wyatt,
June of 44,
Arthur Verocai,
Youth Brigade,
Quadrant,
Simply Red,
Livin' Joy,
The American Breed,
Todd Rundgren,
Josef K,
Bob Dylan,
Essential Logic,
Sound Behaviour,
Juan Atkins,
Sun City Girls,
The Offenders,
Prince Buster,
Sister Nancy,
Cluster,
Massinfluence,
Dual Sessions,
Stereo Dub,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Lalo Schifrin,
Maleditus Sound,
Severed Heads,
Kerri Chandler,
Joe Smooth,
Liliput,
Moby Grape,
Andrew Hill,
Sixth Finger,
Rekid,
Boz Scaggs,
David McCallum,
Vladislav Delay,
Mission of Burma,
The Last Poets,
Gichy Dan,
Donald Byrd,
Bootsy Collins,
Make Up,
ABC,
Kool Moe Dee,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.