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 Liberia and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Slackers to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra Arkestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
The Victims,
Rakim,
Little Man,
Davy DMX,
the Bar-Kays,
Slick Rick,
Agent Orange,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nirvana,
Blancmange,
The Slackers,
Bootsy Collins,
Mr. Review,
Half Japanese,
Michelle Simonal,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dave Gahan,
kango's stein massive,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Aaron Thompson,
Shuggie Otis,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Frankie Knuckles,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Angels of Light,
Junior Murvin,
Howard Jones,
the Sonics,
Interpol,
Buzzcocks,
Bob Dylan,
Cybotron,
Absolute Body Control,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
K-Klass,
The Skatalites,
The Gun Club,
Eric Copeland,
Joy Division,
Alton Ellis,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Symarip,
Deadbeat,
Sällskapet,
Swans,
Neil Young,
Lower 48,
Terry Callier,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Modern Lovers,
Depeche Mode,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Misunderstood,
Crooked Eye,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Durutti Column,
Television Personalities,
Lucky Dragons,
Flipper,
Niagra,
The Blackbyrds,
the Human League,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.