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 Eritrea and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mexico City.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 LL Cool J to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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 Martian,
Nico,
Curtis Mayfield,
Byron Stingily,
The Wake,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crooked Eye,
Maleditus Sound,
Simply Red,
T. Rex,
Avey Tare,
The Fugs,
The Standells,
Public Enemy,
Metal Thangz,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lakeside,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Davy DMX,
Juan Atkins,
Rhythm & Sound,
Buzzcocks,
Donny Hathaway,
Erasure,
Roy Ayers,
The Smoke,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
This Heat,
Bush Tetras,
The Motions,
Gang Starr,
X-102,
Siglo XX,
The Toasters,
Laurel Aitken,
Brass Construction,
Technova,
Todd Terry,
Big Daddy Kane,
Minny Pops,
Mary Jane Girls,
Whodini,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Harry Pussy,
Pagans,
Sexual Harrassment,
Piero Umiliani,
AZ,
Bobby Byrd,
Drive Like Jehu,
Suburban Knight,
Alton Ellis,
10cc,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gang of Four,
The Dead C,
Surgeon,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Joe Smooth,
Terrestrial Tones,
Matthew Halsall,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.