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 Mauritania and from Lyon.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Robert Palmer 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 Funky Four + One 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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
Rod Modell,
Cameo,
New York Dolls,
Mantronix,
Black Bananas,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Andrew Hill,
The Monks,
Harry Pussy,
The Smiths,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Red Krayola,
The Index,
the Slits,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kerri Chandler,
Ice-T,
Model 500,
Clear Light,
Brothers Johnson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Drexciya,
Oblivians,
Popol Vuh,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fugazi,
John Lydon,
Howard Jones,
The Smoke,
The Neon Judgement,
Organ,
Flipper,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ohio Players,
Peter and Kerry,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sun Ra,
Barry Ungar,
Prince Buster,
The Angels of Light,
Lou Reed,
U.S. Maple,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Hashim,
Jeru the Damaja,
Amazonics,
Soulsonic Force,
Yaz,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Interpol,
Bizarre Inc.,
Roxy Music,
Sexual Harrassment,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Darondo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Section 25,
Drive Like Jehu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Funkadelic,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.