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 Costa Rica and from Madrid.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the grunge 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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Byron Stingily,
Technova,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Mojo Men,
The Golliwogs,
Fugazi,
Kerri Chandler,
Heaven 17,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sarah Menescal,
Fear,
Ultra Naté,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ohio Players,
Todd Rundgren,
Ossler,
Maurizio,
The Smiths,
Cybotron,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Drexciya,
Boredoms,
Can,
Absolute Body Control,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Half Japanese,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jacob Miller,
Donald Byrd,
Soft Cell,
Clear Light,
CMW,
Cymande,
Liliput,
Hoover,
Masters at Work,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Accadde A,
Arab on Radar,
Talk Talk,
Symarip,
Bobby Sherman,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gil Scott Heron,
Derrick Morgan,
Hashim,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Newcleus,
Ralphi Rosario,
Henry Cow,
Tears for Fears,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Joe Finger,
Kas Product,
Cecil Taylor,
World's Most,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Dirtbombs,
Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D.
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.