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 Maldives and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 Mexico City and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Gladiators to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
Mr. Review,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sällskapet,
Skriet,
Gang Starr,
Grey Daturas,
Spoonie Gee,
Matthew Bourne,
X-Ray Spex,
The Cramps,
Guru Guru,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
New Age Steppers,
the Sonics,
Rakim,
Main Source,
Matthew Halsall,
Aaron Thompson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Adolescents,
Severed Heads,
Jacques Brel,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Tremeloes,
Crime,
Buzzcocks,
Thompson Twins,
Suicide,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Infiniti,
Simply Red,
D'Angelo,
The Cowsills,
Vladislav Delay,
Massinfluence,
The Moleskins,
Carl Craig,
Monks,
The Kinks,
Goldenarms,
Aural Exciters,
Barry Ungar,
Animal Collective,
Tom Boy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Suburban Knight,
Yusef Lateef,
Joyce Sims,
ABC,
Max Romeo,
Con Funk Shun,
Soul Sonic Force,
Slave,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sight & Sound,
Wasted Youth,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fat Boys,
Dorothy Ashby,
Negative Approach,
Gang of Four,
Siglo XX,
Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez.
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.