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 Barbados and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Trojans to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Oneida,
Royal Trux,
Scion,
Faraquet,
Pantytec,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Newcleus,
Easy Going,
The Gap Band,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Crispian St. Peters,
Shoche,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bootsy Collins,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Association,
Pantaleimon,
Robert Hood,
Grey Daturas,
Marmalade,
The Smoke,
Barbara Tucker,
Fear,
Lindisfarne,
Unwound,
Alphaville,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Velvet Underground,
Nation of Ulysses,
Underground Resistance,
T. Rex,
Minnie Riperton,
Massinfluence,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Icehouse,
Barry Ungar,
Gang Gang Dance,
World's Most,
Black Flag,
Cymande,
the Human League,
Graham Central Station,
Pylon,
Jimmy McGriff,
D'Angelo,
Blake Baxter,
Rakim,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Dead C,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pole,
Magma,
Brass Construction,
The Sound,
Erykah Badu,
Skarface,
Jacob Miller,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Happenings,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.