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 Croatia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Man Parrish,
Altered Images,
Visage,
Sonic Youth,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Residents,
Eric Copeland,
Flamin' Groovies,
Erykah Badu,
David Axelrod,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Music Machine,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Knickerbockers,
The Raincoats,
The Young Rascals,
Suburban Knight,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lightning Bolt,
Alice Coltrane,
The Moleskins,
Lungfish,
Wire,
Gang Starr,
Donny Hathaway,
Letta Mbulu,
cv313,
the Swans,
New Order,
The Evens,
the Association,
Qualms,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Alphaville,
Q and Not U,
Moby Grape,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Star Department,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Japan,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Searchers,
Ornette Coleman,
Funky Four + One,
the Bar-Kays,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bobby Womack,
Lebanon Hanover,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kaleidoscope,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tropical Tobacco,
T.S.O.L.,
Alton Ellis,
The Stooges,
X-102,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Dead C,
World's Most,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.