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 Zimbabwe and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Junior Murvin to the crunk 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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Brand Nubian,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Blancmange,
Junior Murvin,
John Lydon,
Masters at Work,
the Human League,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Five Americans,
The Dave Clark Five,
Danielle Patucci,
Royal Trux,
JFA,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Slits,
Kevin Saunderson,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Jesper Dahlback,
Wasted Youth,
Amon Düül II,
Half Japanese,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Robert Görl,
The Grass Roots,
David Axelrod,
Shuggie Otis,
Depeche Mode,
Moebius,
Rakim,
Cecil Taylor,
Dead Boys,
Derrick Morgan,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The United States of America,
Stockholm Monsters,
B.T. Express,
Lalann,
Youth Brigade,
The Durutti Column,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wally Richardson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bobby Sherman,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gastr Del Sol,
Chris & Cosey,
DJ Sneak,
June Days,
Sonic Youth,
Quando Quango,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Andrew Hill,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Index,
Oneida,
Fatback Band,
Charles Mingus,
The Pop Group,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.