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 Saudi Arabia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 New Order to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Soul II Soul,
Rotary Connection,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mary Jane Girls,
Yellowson,
Wings,
Prince Buster,
Sister Nancy,
Unwound,
Derrick May,
The Invisible,
Bootsy Collins,
Godley & Creme,
Magma,
Ludus,
Oneida,
The Doors,
Crispy Ambulance,
Radiohead,
The Techniques,
Little Man,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Index,
Surgeon,
Pulsallama,
Cymande,
The Angels of Light,
Babytalk,
The Remains,
Bang On A Can,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sun City Girls,
Cluster,
Roxette,
AZ,
Subhumans,
Television,
B.T. Express,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Black Pus,
Hashim,
Eric B and Rakim,
Blake Baxter,
June of 44,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bush Tetras,
Ronan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Electric Prunes,
Visage,
Nirvana,
New Order,
China Crisis,
K-Klass,
Bronski Beat,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pharoah Sanders,
Yusef Lateef,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.