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 Latvia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Toronto.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Monochrome Set to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Lyres tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Ultra Naté,
Lou Christie,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kenny Larkin,
Essential Logic,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Television,
Nick Fraelich,
Hardrive,
Big Daddy Kane,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
John Lydon,
Eric Copeland,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Slick Rick,
The Offenders,
The Skatalites,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rites of Spring,
Smog,
John Holt,
Rosa Yemen,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tres Demented,
The Dirtbombs,
Magazine,
Reuben Wilson,
Robert Wyatt,
Pole,
Nik Kershaw,
The Gun Club,
In Retrospect,
D'Angelo,
Marc Almond,
Soul II Soul,
Erykah Badu,
The Fall,
Delta 5,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Leonard Cohen,
Livin' Joy,
Peter & Gordon,
This Heat,
Chris Corsano,
DJ Style,
Bobby Womack,
Don Cherry,
Albert Ayler,
Tears for Fears,
Franke,
Crispy Ambulance,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Pylon,
10cc,
The Sound,
Ponytail,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.