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 Ecuador and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Johnny Clarke to the grime 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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Guru Guru,
Drexciya,
DNA,
Pagans,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ituana,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Girls At Our Best!,
Barry Ungar,
F. McDonald,
the Swans,
Quantec,
Tres Demented,
The Vogues,
Donny Hathaway,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pharoah Sanders,
Oneida,
The Slackers,
PIL,
The Dead C,
Dual Sessions,
OOIOO,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
cv313,
E-Dancer,
U.S. Maple,
Scan 7,
Black Sheep,
Flipper,
Lucky Dragons,
Minor Threat,
Brass Construction,
Rufus Thomas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Gladiators,
Arthur Verocai,
a-ha,
R.M.O.,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Joe Finger,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Kinks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Isaac Hayes,
Rapeman,
DJ Sneak,
Andrew Hill,
Hot Snakes,
Morten Harket,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Scientists,
Ponytail,
Scrapy,
Sugar Minott,
The Litter,
Clear Light,
Bootsy Collins,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Darondo,
The Pretty Things,
Schoolly D,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.