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 Nicaragua and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Kayak to the crunk 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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
The Techniques,
Patti Smith,
Liliput,
Camouflage,
Dark Day,
Jesper Dahlback,
Negative Approach,
Rotary Connection,
Crime,
Johnny Clarke,
Parry Music,
Erasure,
The Misunderstood,
The Doobie Brothers,
Panda Bear,
Duran Duran,
Organ,
Technova,
Das Ding,
The Gories,
Ronnie Foster,
Sun City Girls,
The Cowsills,
Audionom,
Barbara Tucker,
Boz Scaggs,
The Move,
X-102,
Joey Negro,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jacob Miller,
Yusef Lateef,
Bill Wells,
Section 25,
Sugar Minott,
The Alarm Clocks,
Severed Heads,
The Mummies,
Goldenarms,
Essential Logic,
Funkadelic,
Barclay James Harvest,
Thompson Twins,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pantytec,
Peter and Kerry,
Funky Four + One,
Tomorrow,
Motorama,
The Doors,
Tears for Fears,
Sight & Sound,
Nik Kershaw,
Donald Byrd,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Symarip,
Animal Collective,
Josef K,
The Divine Comedy,
June of 44,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.