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 Mauritius and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the disco 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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
David Bowie,
Rakim,
Sparks,
Sandy B,
Icehouse,
Soft Machine,
Talk Talk,
The Cramps,
The Index,
Gabor Szabo,
Eurythmics,
KRS-One,
John Coltrane,
Desert Stars,
The Birthday Party,
Andrew Hill,
Neil Young,
Porter Ricks,
Albert Ayler,
Swell Maps,
Idris Muhammad,
Shoche,
Scrapy,
Lalann,
Gerry Rafferty,
Faust,
The Gap Band,
Kas Product,
The Mummies,
Newcleus,
Schoolly D,
Gregory Isaacs,
The United States of America,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Prince Buster,
Flash Fearless,
Electric Prunes,
Hot Snakes,
Scott Walker,
Bobby Womack,
Faraquet,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Leaves,
John Foxx,
Piero Umiliani,
The Motions,
Quadrant,
Intrusion,
Quando Quango,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Cluster,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Juan Atkins,
Main Source,
The Last Poets,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tubeway Army,
Eddi Front,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.