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 Lithuania and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Guru Guru record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Black Pus,
Juan Atkins,
Angry Samoans,
Lower 48,
Peter and Kerry,
Warren Ellis,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Last Poets,
Panda Bear,
Grandmaster Flash,
Agent Orange,
Danielle Patucci,
Arcadia,
Tres Demented,
Visage,
Chrome,
Babytalk,
L. Decosne,
Chris Corsano,
Kerri Chandler,
X-101,
Grey Daturas,
Eurythmics,
Circle Jerks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Barracudas,
48th St. Collective,
Harmonia,
The Fortunes,
Main Source,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Schoolly D,
Lalann,
The Monks,
Pharoah Sanders,
Qualms,
Mo-Dettes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mr. Review,
Q and Not U,
D'Angelo,
Black Flag,
Cameo,
the Germs,
Jacques Brel,
Dark Day,
Khruangbin,
Motorama,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jeru the Damaja,
Susan Cadogan,
The Techniques,
The Mojo Men,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Zeros,
Nico,
Stereo Dub,
Q65,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.