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 Papua New Guinea and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 marimba 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 B.T. Express to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Monochrome Set,
Sixth Finger,
Wally Richardson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Das Ding,
L. Decosne,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Association,
Godley & Creme,
Con Funk Shun,
K-Klass,
Boogie Down Productions,
Technova,
Bob Dylan,
Nik Kershaw,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Golliwogs,
Jerry's Kids,
The Black Dice,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ossler,
Flash Fearless,
The Smoke,
Ituana,
Jacob Miller,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sun City Girls,
The Cure,
Brass Construction,
Young Marble Giants,
The Wake,
Connie Case,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Los Fastidios,
Adolescents,
Lungfish,
Fad Gadget,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pylon,
The Stooges,
Inner City,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bill Wells,
Aaron Thompson,
DJ Style,
the Swans,
Dennis Brown,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Vogues,
Danielle Patucci,
Jandek,
Peter & Gordon,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.