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 Honduras and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 the Fania All-Stars to the rock 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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Joy Division,
The Divine Comedy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scion,
The Toasters,
D'Angelo,
Ituana,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sister Nancy,
Deakin,
Roger Hodgson,
Monks,
Mad Mike,
Porter Ricks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Infiniti,
The Monochrome Set,
The Durutti Column,
Model 500,
Anakelly,
Mo-Dettes,
Yellowson,
Accadde A,
Leonard Cohen,
Robert Hood,
X-Ray Spex,
Fad Gadget,
Symarip,
Television Personalities,
Scott Walker,
Arcadia,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Dave Clark Five,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lindisfarne,
Marvin Gaye,
Parry Music,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Moleskins,
Yaz,
Rakim,
Hashim,
Althea and Donna,
The Zeros,
The Mummies,
Tres Demented,
The Star Department,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Quadrant,
Make Up,
Pussy Galore,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Delta 5,
Andrew Hill,
Maurizio,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
F. McDonald,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Crash Course in Science,
Skarface,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.