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 Malawi and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Standells to the techno 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 The Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Darondo,
Bush Tetras,
Con Funk Shun,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mission of Burma,
Surgeon,
Cymande,
X-102,
Subhumans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Fluxion,
Glenn Branca,
Main Source,
Intrusion,
Oneida,
Danielle Patucci,
The Names,
Crispy Ambulance,
EPMD,
Kayak,
Tim Buckley,
Bobby Womack,
Newcleus,
Leonard Cohen,
Loose Ends,
Marcia Griffiths,
Trumans Water,
Radiohead,
The Searchers,
The Techniques,
Ponytail,
Bobby Byrd,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Swell Maps,
Marshall Jefferson,
Stetsasonic,
The Fugs,
Los Fastidios,
Sam Rivers,
Throbbing Gristle,
F. McDonald,
John Cale,
The Black Dice,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Mummies,
ABC,
The Tremeloes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Zero Boys,
Dual Sessions,
Vainqueur,
James White and The Blacks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.