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 St Lucia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Bobby Womack to the dance 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q and Not U,
Lindisfarne,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bang On A Can,
Scientists,
Moby Grape,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mandrill,
Scratch Acid,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Jacob Miller,
Grauzone,
Unwound,
the Soft Cell,
Pharoah Sanders,
Neu!,
Jeru the Damaja,
Altered Images,
The Trojans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Patti Smith,
Donald Byrd,
The Doors,
Don Cherry,
Sixth Finger,
Johnny Osbourne,
Neil Young,
Bill Wells,
Flash Fearless,
Country Teasers,
Gabor Szabo,
Loose Ends,
Parry Music,
Bobby Womack,
Make Up,
Rites of Spring,
Dead Boys,
Brothers Johnson,
Alphaville,
Charles Mingus,
Hasil Adkins,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Technova,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Germs,
Albert Ayler,
Tears for Fears,
Rakim,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gang of Four,
Masters at Work,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Jacques Brel,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jawbox,
Flipper,
The Skatalites,
Byron Stingily,
Arab on Radar,
Animal Collective,
Pantytec,
Siglo XX,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.