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 Jamaica and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Nile Rodgers 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 ABBA to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yusef Lateef record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Sex Pistols,
The Slackers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Scott Walker,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mark Hollis,
New York Dolls,
Harry Pussy,
These Immortal Souls,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sonny Sharrock,
Joy Division,
The Skatalites,
Joensuu 1685,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jeff Mills,
Crime,
Pulsallama,
The Index,
Skriet,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kayak,
Carl Craig,
Quantec,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pussy Galore,
Magma,
Lightning Bolt,
Marvin Gaye,
Camouflage,
X-102,
Blossom Toes,
The Martian,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Dirtbombs,
Radiohead,
The Evens,
Bronski Beat,
Whodini,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mars,
L. Decosne,
MDC,
Supertramp,
Hoover,
Josef K,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Surgeon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Peter and Kerry,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Remains,
Accadde A,
Yusef Lateef,
Nirvana,
Erykah Badu,
Morten Harket,
The Kinks,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.