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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bauhaus,
The Young Rascals,
Funkadelic,
Tim Buckley,
Eurythmics,
Bush Tetras,
Barbara Tucker,
Delon & Dalcan,
Scion,
Tres Demented,
Fela Kuti,
Ken Boothe,
Arab on Radar,
Soft Cell,
John Coltrane,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Selecter,
Jeru the Damaja,
Depeche Mode,
These Immortal Souls,
Parry Music,
Stockholm Monsters,
Groovy Waters,
the Germs,
Aural Exciters,
Carl Craig,
Traffic Nightmare,
Symarip,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rhythm & Sound,
Alice Coltrane,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Offenders,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Outsiders,
Liliput,
Neil Young,
Glenn Branca,
Sun Ra,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fat Boys,
Severed Heads,
Agitation Free,
the Soft Cell,
Motorama,
The Sonics,
The Wake,
The Gap Band,
Prince Buster,
The Misunderstood,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Deakin,
Con Funk Shun,
China Crisis,
Minutemen,
Idris Muhammad,
Kas Product,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.