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 Sudan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Stockholm.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Henry Cow to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Index,
Max Romeo,
Connie Case,
Spoonie Gee,
Sister Nancy,
Rapeman,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Mark Hollis,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Sonics,
Minny Pops,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Monks,
Audionom,
Aloha Tigers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Al Stewart,
The Real Kids,
EPMD,
Fluxion,
Flash Fearless,
Sight & Sound,
Barclay James Harvest,
Big Daddy Kane,
Chrome,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
T. Rex,
Flamin' Groovies,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nik Kershaw,
The Happenings,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hardrive,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Severed Heads,
The Dirtbombs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Piero Umiliani,
the Swans,
Eddi Front,
KRS-One,
Lindisfarne,
Skarface,
Pole,
Porter Ricks,
Minutemen,
The Slackers,
H. Thieme,
Franke,
Royal Trux,
Sexual Harrassment,
Funkadelic,
Black Pus,
John Coltrane,
Oneida,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
AZ,
The Velvet Underground,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Morten Harket,
X-101,
Judy Mowatt,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.