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 Greece and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Gregory Isaacs to the rap 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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
Jacob Miller,
Little Man,
Dark Day,
The Seeds,
Matthew Bourne,
The Misunderstood,
Fat Boys,
Con Funk Shun,
Slave,
New York Dolls,
Anakelly,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pussy Galore,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lucky Dragons,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Cowsills,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Nas,
The Skatalites,
Can,
FM Einheit,
The Birthday Party,
MDC,
Roy Ayers,
Barbara Tucker,
Steve Hackett,
Reagan Youth,
The Mummies,
Davy DMX,
James White and The Blacks,
Dennis Brown,
Ten City,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Ohio Players,
Frankie Knuckles,
Q65,
Harpers Bizarre,
Flipper,
Lungfish,
The Gories,
Angry Samoans,
Darondo,
The Grass Roots,
Boz Scaggs,
Rosa Yemen,
Jesper Dahlback,
Absolute Body Control,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Fortunes,
Mo-Dettes,
Scan 7,
Clear Light,
Prince Buster,
Laurel Aitken,
Radiopuhelimet,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gerry Rafferty,
Delta 5,
Soulsonic Force,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.