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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the güiro 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 Pharoah Sanders to the grunge 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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse 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 a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Fela Kuti,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Moby Grape,
Masters at Work,
PIL,
Underground Resistance,
Eve St. Jones,
Radio Birdman,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lou Reed,
Jawbox,
James White and The Blacks,
The Fuzztones,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Faust,
Brothers Johnson,
the Germs,
Sällskapet,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kerri Chandler,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
B.T. Express,
Tom Boy,
Bush Tetras,
Magma,
Gong,
Eden Ahbez,
Nils Olav,
Technova,
Lindisfarne,
Soul Sonic Force,
Joe Finger,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ossler,
Japan,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mission of Burma,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Connie Case,
Rotary Connection,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Don Cherry,
Marmalade,
The Monochrome Set,
Gregory Isaacs,
Qualms,
Erasure,
Rod Modell,
Jeff Lynne,
Cheater Slicks,
Main Source,
Deadbeat,
Metal Thangz,
Delta 5,
The Flesh Eaters,
Andrew Hill,
The Fire Engines,
Quantec,
Schoolly D,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.