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 Djibouti and from Accra.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
Niagra,
Suburban Knight,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
T.S.O.L.,
Donny Hathaway,
Section 25,
Infiniti,
Rakim,
The Slits,
Trumans Water,
The Cure,
Unrelated Segments,
Minnie Riperton,
Joe Finger,
Soul II Soul,
Essential Logic,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Offenders,
Camouflage,
The Fall,
Wasted Youth,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Hoover,
Heaven 17,
The Real Kids,
Swell Maps,
Soulsonic Force,
Japan,
Grandmaster Flash,
Reuben Wilson,
Scion,
Eurythmics,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kaleidoscope,
Minny Pops,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Normal,
The Star Department,
CMW,
Funkadelic,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Monks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marine Girls,
Outsiders,
the Association,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
U.S. Maple,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Mojo Men,
the Soft Cell,
Nick Fraelich,
F. McDonald,
Scott Walker,
Boredoms,
Barrington Levy,
Rites of Spring,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dead Boys,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.