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 Ghana and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 David McCallum to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 KRS-One. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monochrome Set,
Intrusion,
Joey Negro,
Ornette Coleman,
Fad Gadget,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Oblivians,
Sugar Minott,
Organ,
Silicon Teens,
Pole,
The Cowsills,
the Bar-Kays,
The Litter,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Banda Bassotti,
Rapeman,
The Barracudas,
Sparks,
Dead Boys,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Magma,
Yellowson,
Mr. Review,
AZ,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
New York Dolls,
Michelle Simonal,
The Fall,
Quadrant,
Danielle Patucci,
Spandau Ballet,
Man Parrish,
Barry Ungar,
Moby Grape,
Marcia Griffiths,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
OOIOO,
Leonard Cohen,
Matthew Bourne,
Con Funk Shun,
Roy Ayers,
The Happenings,
Accadde A,
The Selecter,
Inner City,
Trumans Water,
Oneida,
Junior Murvin,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Mojo Men,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ronnie Foster,
Sister Nancy,
the Swans,
The Associates,
The Birthday Party,
Kool Moe Dee,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.