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 Jamaica and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 808 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 Thompson Twins to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Donald Byrd,
Con Funk Shun,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Dirtbombs,
CMW,
Newcleus,
The Five Americans,
Yaz,
Anthony Braxton,
Yazoo,
Skaos,
The Motions,
Radio Birdman,
the Normal,
Scratch Acid,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Judy Mowatt,
Bush Tetras,
Basic Channel,
Jeff Mills,
Aloha Tigers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Fluxion,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ice-T,
Lindisfarne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Holt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Masters at Work,
The Remains,
Scion,
Ten City,
Tim Buckley,
Derrick Morgan,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tomorrow,
The Residents,
Mark Hollis,
David Axelrod,
Clear Light,
Siglo XX,
Harmonia,
Sun Ra,
Youth Brigade,
Kool Moe Dee,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Crooked Eye,
Fat Boys,
Neu!,
Stetsasonic,
Byron Stingily,
Letta Mbulu,
Marshall Jefferson,
Anakelly,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Thee Headcoats,
Sparks,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.