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 Turkmenistan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Smog to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Morten Harket,
Warsaw,
Moby Grape,
The Seeds,
Grauzone,
Fear,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Moss Icon,
Bronski Beat,
Loose Ends,
Rapeman,
Pylon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rosa Yemen,
The Knickerbockers,
Harry Pussy,
The Move,
Parry Music,
the Sonics,
Stiv Bators,
The Dead C,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joe Smooth,
The Tremeloes,
LL Cool J,
Scrapy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kool Moe Dee,
Au Pairs,
Echospace,
Scientists,
The Blues Magoos,
The Shadows of Knight,
Graham Central Station,
Sun City Girls,
Marcia Griffiths,
Anthony Braxton,
Excepter,
Model 500,
Nas,
T.S.O.L.,
Sällskapet,
Peter & Gordon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Eurythmics,
Black Flag,
John Holt,
Index,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Swans,
Arab on Radar,
Hashim,
The Monks,
Howard Jones,
PIL,
Bobby Womack,
John Coltrane,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bob Dylan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.