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 Yemen and from Columbus.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the rap 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Newcleus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Donald Byrd,
Barrington Levy,
Johnny Clarke,
The United States of America,
Marmalade,
Main Source,
Youth Brigade,
Loose Ends,
Gichy Dan,
Pylon,
James White and The Blacks,
Simply Red,
Aaron Thompson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mr. Review,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Gap Band,
Lou Christie,
Sun City Girls,
Cybotron,
Joensuu 1685,
Pierre Henry,
The Saints,
Kurtis Blow,
The Cramps,
John Coltrane,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Japan,
Can,
World's Most,
Malaria!,
The Associates,
Matthew Halsall,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gabor Szabo,
Terrestrial Tones,
Duran Duran,
Joe Finger,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Roxette,
The Blues Magoos,
The Vogues,
Isaac Hayes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Guru Guru,
Charles Mingus,
Sun Ra,
Donny Hathaway,
X-101,
10cc,
Lightning Bolt,
Alton Ellis,
Flipper,
LL Cool J,
Sound Behaviour,
Piero Umiliani,
Marine Girls,
Hashim,
JFA,
Mantronix,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.