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 Seychelles and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Slick Rick to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
John Coltrane,
The Moody Blues,
Amon Düül,
The Neon Judgement,
Delon & Dalcan,
Funkadelic,
Eric Dolphy,
Mark Hollis,
Intrusion,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
JFA,
Yaz,
Donald Byrd,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Suicide,
DJ Style,
EPMD,
Joy Division,
Drive Like Jehu,
Metal Thangz,
Cheater Slicks,
Amazonics,
The Happenings,
Glenn Branca,
Dennis Brown,
Tropical Tobacco,
Con Funk Shun,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sixth Finger,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Icehouse,
Ornette Coleman,
Grauzone,
Audionom,
Vladislav Delay,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Alphaville,
Kayak,
Porter Ricks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Mojo Men,
Darondo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Don Cherry,
The Standells,
Ossler,
Arab on Radar,
Iggy Pop,
Drexciya,
Soft Cell,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Slave,
Mandrill,
Interpol,
L. Decosne,
Gang of Four,
Alice Coltrane,
Matthew Halsall,
Ponytail,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.