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 Kazakhstan and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 sitar 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the electroclash 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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
World's Most,
Supertramp,
Crime,
the Normal,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Slackers,
Barbara Tucker,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Scan 7,
Marmalade,
Joyce Sims,
U.S. Maple,
Soft Cell,
Bauhaus,
Sonny Sharrock,
New Age Steppers,
Reagan Youth,
Suicide,
The Vogues,
Urselle,
Absolute Body Control,
Shoche,
Colin Newman,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
R.M.O.,
The Barracudas,
Youth Brigade,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Residents,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The J.B.'s,
The Real Kids,
Junior Murvin,
The Gories,
The Pop Group,
DJ Style,
Icehouse,
Bill Near,
Aloha Tigers,
Sandy B,
Gang Green,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Nas,
The Blackbyrds,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eric Dolphy,
Rosa Yemen,
Make Up,
Alton Ellis,
Scientists,
The Happenings,
Wolf Eyes,
Television Personalities,
Fat Boys,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Television,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Human League,
Yaz,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.