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 Nicaragua and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 L. Decosne to the grime 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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every EPMD record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Sight & Sound,
Pharoah Sanders,
Au Pairs,
Mo-Dettes,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lightning Bolt,
The Litter,
The J.B.'s,
Con Funk Shun,
Kenny Larkin,
Davy DMX,
Mr. Review,
Dawn Penn,
Sun City Girls,
Can,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Panda Bear,
Metal Thangz,
In Retrospect,
Bill Wells,
Reuben Wilson,
Grauzone,
The Smiths,
Alice Coltrane,
Nick Fraelich,
The Gladiators,
The Martian,
Fear,
Second Layer,
Frankie Knuckles,
Joy Division,
Roy Ayers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Saints,
Idris Muhammad,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Joe Smooth,
Todd Rundgren,
Lee Hazlewood,
Youth Brigade,
Sexual Harrassment,
Khruangbin,
Bobby Byrd,
Zapp,
The Moleskins,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bad Manners,
Delon & Dalcan,
Faraquet,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Slits,
Steve Hackett,
Blancmange,
Chris & Cosey,
Dennis Brown,
Section 25,
The Happenings,
Rakim,
Harmonia,
Adolescents,
Yusef Lateef,
E-Dancer,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.