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 El Salvador and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 Cal Tjader to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Wake,
Agitation Free,
The Associates,
Massinfluence,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
A Flock of Seagulls,
In Retrospect,
Wasted Youth,
Vainqueur,
Pere Ubu,
Drive Like Jehu,
Q65,
Barbara Tucker,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Flesh Eaters,
Thee Headcoats,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Visage,
Newcleus,
D'Angelo,
Dawn Penn,
Mandrill,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rapeman,
Erykah Badu,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rekid,
Marine Girls,
Audionom,
Blancmange,
Joey Negro,
Mantronix,
Excepter,
Negative Approach,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jeru the Damaja,
48th St. Collective,
The Busters,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
X-102,
Derrick May,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fluxion,
LL Cool J,
John Holt,
CMW,
Slick Rick,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Black Dice,
Quantec,
Black Pus,
John Lydon,
Monks,
Bluetip,
The Cowsills,
The Neon Judgement,
Hasil Adkins,
Flash Fearless,
Talk Talk,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.