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 Guyana and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Last Poets to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
Sun Ra,
Robert Wyatt,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Dark Day,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Bar-Kays,
Roxy Music,
Stockholm Monsters,
Blake Baxter,
Deakin,
Lightning Bolt,
Nik Kershaw,
The Index,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pet Shop Boys,
Buzzcocks,
The Stooges,
The Offenders,
Suburban Knight,
Monks,
The Busters,
Sällskapet,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Niagra,
Simply Red,
Letta Mbulu,
E-Dancer,
Basic Channel,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sexual Harrassment,
Magma,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Talk Talk,
The Remains,
The Skatalites,
Mary Jane Girls,
Severed Heads,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bill Wells,
Hasil Adkins,
Warsaw,
Inner City,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Derrick May,
Excepter,
Procol Harum,
Parry Music,
Skriet,
Cheater Slicks,
Rekid,
Deepchord,
Scan 7,
Cymande,
The Angels of Light,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Brass Construction,
Prince Buster,
Sarah Menescal,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.