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 Andorra and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Hong Kong and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Mission of Burma,
Roxy Music,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Massinfluence,
Rosa Yemen,
Ken Boothe,
the Normal,
John Lydon,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Blackbyrds,
H. Thieme,
The Flesh Eaters,
Vainqueur,
Grey Daturas,
Flipper,
Lower 48,
Symarip,
Gang Starr,
Idris Muhammad,
The Vogues,
Scan 7,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Parry Music,
Khruangbin,
Marine Girls,
Bobby Byrd,
The Victims,
Loose Ends,
Whodini,
The Pretty Things,
Black Flag,
Brand Nubian,
China Crisis,
Drive Like Jehu,
Electric Prunes,
Au Pairs,
The Busters,
Sarah Menescal,
Gregory Isaacs,
Big Daddy Kane,
Los Fastidios,
Supertramp,
L. Decosne,
Moby Grape,
Ice-T,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Barry Ungar,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dark Day,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The American Breed,
Chrome,
Camouflage,
Yazoo,
Letta Mbulu,
Niagra,
Howard Jones,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.