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 Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the organ 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 Crispy Ambulance to the grime 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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scrapy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ponytail,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Stiv Bators,
Talk Talk,
Steve Hackett,
Pussy Galore,
Severed Heads,
Grauzone,
Bluetip,
Wire,
Cal Tjader,
The Durutti Column,
Von Mondo,
Isaac Hayes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eli Mardock,
The Slackers,
Ronnie Foster,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Loose Ends,
Matthew Halsall,
Neu!,
Tommy Roe,
Bob Dylan,
Warsaw,
Magma,
F. McDonald,
Glambeats Corp.,
Donald Byrd,
Barry Ungar,
Minny Pops,
Tubeway Army,
Agent Orange,
JFA,
Excepter,
Swans,
Qualms,
Brass Construction,
Bad Manners,
Dark Day,
Rakim,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Funkadelic,
Con Funk Shun,
Kenny Larkin,
Roy Ayers,
Roxy Music,
10cc,
Index,
The Cramps,
The Trojans,
Sixth Finger,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Robert Hood,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Germs,
Popol Vuh,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.