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 Thailand and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 F. McDonald to the techno 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers Ubiquity record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Swell Maps,
Sister Nancy,
Hoover,
Ituana,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fat Boys,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Archie Shepp,
Minnie Riperton,
Yazoo,
Marc Almond,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
F. McDonald,
ABBA,
Brass Construction,
China Crisis,
Terrestrial Tones,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Donald Byrd,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sparks,
Hot Snakes,
Moebius,
Fatback Band,
In Retrospect,
Spoonie Gee,
Nico,
Brick,
Barry Ungar,
Main Source,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pantaleimon,
Danielle Patucci,
The Neon Judgement,
Zapp,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
MC5,
Frankie Knuckles,
New Order,
The Fugs,
Carl Craig,
The Smiths,
The Busters,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Susan Cadogan,
David Axelrod,
The Birthday Party,
Magazine,
The Golliwogs,
Stetsasonic,
Zero Boys,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Curtis Mayfield,
Desert Stars,
Fad Gadget,
Tears for Fears,
Los Fastidios,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.