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 Tuvalu and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 D'Angelo to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Groovy Waters. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Quadrant,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Camouflage,
Kevin Saunderson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bobby Byrd,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nas,
Roy Ayers,
Marine Girls,
Drexciya,
Saccharine Trust,
Japan,
Sound Behaviour,
Jerry's Kids,
Ornette Coleman,
The Count Five,
The Skatalites,
R.M.O.,
Hoover,
The Zeros,
Pulsallama,
The Happenings,
Cameo,
The Busters,
Pet Shop Boys,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Wire,
Al Stewart,
The Slits,
Bootsy Collins,
Ponytail,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Scan 7,
The American Breed,
June Days,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pussy Galore,
Flash Fearless,
Cluster,
Tubeway Army,
Wasted Youth,
MDC,
The Gories,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Fela Kuti,
Ohio Players,
Albert Ayler,
DJ Style,
The Sonics,
Juan Atkins,
Roxy Music,
Duran Duran,
Technova,
The Red Krayola,
The Last Poets,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.