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 Papua New Guinea and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 Frankie Knuckles to the rap 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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
The Misunderstood,
La Düsseldorf,
Prince Buster,
Lungfish,
Stockholm Monsters,
Magma,
Marc Almond,
Kurtis Blow,
Derrick Morgan,
Eli Mardock,
Minutemen,
Bauhaus,
Bang On A Can,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fela Kuti,
Cluster,
Panda Bear,
Yusef Lateef,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Arcadia,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Barrington Levy,
Organ,
Lyres,
Desert Stars,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Qualms,
The Smiths,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Bar-Kays,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
E-Dancer,
Kevin Saunderson,
Grey Daturas,
Fad Gadget,
Technova,
Roy Ayers,
Magazine,
Accadde A,
Robert Görl,
Terrestrial Tones,
OOIOO,
Joey Negro,
Deadbeat,
Josef K,
Ten City,
Au Pairs,
Girls At Our Best!,
Carl Craig,
Suicide,
Procol Harum,
The Dirtbombs,
Blossom Toes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Slits,
New Age Steppers,
The Slits,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.