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 Syria and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 808 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 Rod Modell to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
The Toasters,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Moleskins,
Jacques Brel,
Flipper,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Dead C,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Peter & Gordon,
The Last Poets,
a-ha,
Spandau Ballet,
Arthur Verocai,
Eric Copeland,
Model 500,
Ralphi Rosario,
These Immortal Souls,
Lakeside,
The Busters,
A Certain Ratio,
Don Cherry,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Moebius,
Rosa Yemen,
Skriet,
The Knickerbockers,
LL Cool J,
June Days,
Jawbox,
The Kinks,
Black Flag,
Organ,
Make Up,
Audionom,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pagans,
Sun Ra,
Alice Coltrane,
Pierre Henry,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kenny Larkin,
Fat Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Eden Ahbez,
Tears for Fears,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sixth Finger,
Groovy Waters,
Agent Orange,
Soul II Soul,
the Sonics,
Gabor Szabo,
the Swans,
FM Einheit,
Oblivians,
Eli Mardock,
Eric Dolphy,
DJ Sneak,
Gang Starr,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.