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 Mozambique and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin 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 Graham Central Station to the crunk 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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Pole,
Blossom Toes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Letta Mbulu,
8 Eyed Spy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Das Ding,
The Gories,
Crash Course in Science,
Scott Walker,
Angry Samoans,
Grauzone,
Radiohead,
Kevin Saunderson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Yellowson,
Fatback Band,
Eric B and Rakim,
Reuben Wilson,
Nation of Ulysses,
Connie Case,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Count Five,
Ultra Naté,
the Association,
Kerri Chandler,
The Cure,
The Electric Prunes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Derrick Morgan,
The Fuzztones,
Boz Scaggs,
Blancmange,
Maurizio,
Crispian St. Peters,
X-Ray Spex,
Joyce Sims,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Fire Engines,
Tomorrow,
Gang of Four,
Eurythmics,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Godley & Creme,
Althea and Donna,
Derrick May,
Au Pairs,
Fluxion,
Dave Gahan,
Rites of Spring,
Von Mondo,
Judy Mowatt,
Japan,
D'Angelo,
Isaac Hayes,
Siglo XX,
Harmonia,
Monolake,
Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet.
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.