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 Colombia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Columbus.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Rites of Spring to the grunge 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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Lalann tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s 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 Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Amazonics,
Young Marble Giants,
The Red Krayola,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fluxion,
Brick,
Quando Quango,
Maurizio,
Intrusion,
Jacob Miller,
Letta Mbulu,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mandrill,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Todd Terry,
Surgeon,
Ultra Naté,
Terry Callier,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jeff Lynne,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ludus,
CMW,
Nik Kershaw,
Stockholm Monsters,
Yellowson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Donny Hathaway,
Johnny Clarke,
Sugar Minott,
Terrestrial Tones,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ronan,
Grey Daturas,
Electric Prunes,
Sister Nancy,
Babytalk,
Rekid,
Altered Images,
Rakim,
Kas Product,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Average White Band,
Wasted Youth,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kerri Chandler,
Fad Gadget,
Q and Not U,
Gang Starr,
Vladislav Delay,
Byron Stingily,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
DJ Sneak,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.