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 Iceland and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Skriet to the crunk 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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lonnie Liston Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
EPMD,
Ice-T,
Babytalk,
JFA,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Harmonia,
The Walker Brothers,
Reagan Youth,
Brand Nubian,
Reuben Wilson,
Scratch Acid,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Evens,
Skaos,
Anthony Braxton,
CMW,
Bill Near,
Robert Hood,
Scrapy,
The Fire Engines,
Grey Daturas,
The Offenders,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kayak,
Scientists,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eden Ahbez,
Qualms,
Joe Smooth,
Mad Mike,
New Age Steppers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bootsy Collins,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Pretty Things,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nirvana,
The Dirtbombs,
Fad Gadget,
Slave,
Swans,
Suicide,
Icehouse,
ABC,
Matthew Bourne,
Los Fastidios,
Black Pus,
The Young Rascals,
Rod Modell,
Minnie Riperton,
Piero Umiliani,
The Vogues,
MDC,
the Swans,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Fat Boys,
Freddie Wadling,
The Busters,
Blossom Toes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.