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 Romania and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Easy Going to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Y Pants,
Livin' Joy,
Visage,
Hashim,
Faust,
Index,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Fuzztones,
Gregory Isaacs,
Desert Stars,
ABC,
cv313,
Soul II Soul,
B.T. Express,
H. Thieme,
The Offenders,
48th St. Collective,
Black Moon,
Niagra,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Amon Düül,
Lucky Dragons,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Johnny Clarke,
Dual Sessions,
The Cramps,
Wings,
Soul Sonic Force,
Animal Collective,
Sällskapet,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rekid,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kerri Chandler,
The Divine Comedy,
Henry Cow,
Sandy B,
Man Parrish,
Chrome,
LL Cool J,
Eric Dolphy,
Yazoo,
Black Sheep,
Ronan,
Crispian St. Peters,
DJ Sneak,
Ronnie Foster,
Unrelated Segments,
Altered Images,
Kas Product,
The Victims,
U.S. Maple,
The Associates,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Moody Blues,
The Leaves,
The Trojans,
Bluetip,
a-ha,
Gabor Szabo,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.