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 Turkmenistan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lebanon Hanover,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Reuben Wilson,
Quando Quango,
Max Romeo,
Goldenarms,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Alison Limerick,
Colin Newman,
Talk Talk,
Buzzcocks,
Tom Boy,
the Normal,
Peter & Gordon,
Joey Negro,
The J.B.'s,
The Young Rascals,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
EPMD,
Organ,
Subhumans,
Radio Birdman,
Desert Stars,
Jacob Miller,
Archie Shepp,
Ice-T,
Amon Düül,
Faust,
Dave Gahan,
Dawn Penn,
The Remains,
Underground Resistance,
Judy Mowatt,
Harpers Bizarre,
Von Mondo,
UT,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Brand Nubian,
Maleditus Sound,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Mantronix,
New York Dolls,
Don Cherry,
JFA,
Public Enemy,
The Martian,
Todd Rundgren,
Television Personalities,
The Vogues,
The Busters,
Marmalade,
Can,
In Retrospect,
Warren Ellis,
Eve St. Jones,
Camberwell Now,
Gerry Rafferty,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.