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 Fiji and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Fifty Foot Hose to the disco 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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
The Last Poets,
Heaven 17,
Howard Jones,
Judy Mowatt,
The Dead C,
Mars,
Gil Scott Heron,
Neil Young,
One Last Wish,
Flipper,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pussy Galore,
Negative Approach,
Alphaville,
Camouflage,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Move,
Big Daddy Kane,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cymande,
Yusef Lateef,
Jawbox,
Kerri Chandler,
Freddie Wadling,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Archie Shepp,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Flash Fearless,
Newcleus,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Idris Muhammad,
In Retrospect,
Porter Ricks,
Soft Cell,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Red Krayola,
Skarface,
The Tremeloes,
Scan 7,
Nils Olav,
Derrick May,
Mandrill,
Tomorrow,
Niagra,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
kango's stein massive,
Thompson Twins,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Music Machine,
Rakim,
Eddi Front,
Colin Newman,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Eurythmics,
KRS-One,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Gories,
The Skatalites,
Sugar Minott,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.