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 Grenada and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sun Ra to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Oblivians,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Durutti Column,
Boz Scaggs,
Spandau Ballet,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
OOIOO,
The Litter,
The New Christs,
Cheater Slicks,
Marc Almond,
X-102,
Nik Kershaw,
Suicide,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Moleskins,
Connie Case,
Gichy Dan,
Bobby Womack,
the Normal,
Bad Manners,
Brand Nubian,
Scratch Acid,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ornette Coleman,
The Dead C,
the Human League,
Deakin,
Neil Young,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fela Kuti,
Anthony Braxton,
The Moody Blues,
Mission of Burma,
Jacob Miller,
Pantytec,
Underground Resistance,
L. Decosne,
Gerry Rafferty,
Severed Heads,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Warsaw,
Theoretical Girls,
Kas Product,
Patti Smith,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tres Demented,
CMW,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Can,
Hashim,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Bar-Kays,
David Bowie,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.