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 Montenegro and from New York.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Metal Thangz to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Easy Going record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
The Slits,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Laurel Aitken,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lebanon Hanover,
KRS-One,
Agent Orange,
The Moleskins,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sex Pistols,
Sam Rivers,
The Modern Lovers,
Toni Rubio,
Quando Quango,
Y Pants,
Harmonia,
Glenn Branca,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Dead Boys,
ABC,
Ken Boothe,
Deepchord,
JFA,
Swell Maps,
Jacques Brel,
Carl Craig,
Talk Talk,
Mary Jane Girls,
Make Up,
Eric Copeland,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Fall,
Moebius,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crash Course in Science,
Sun Ra,
Fugazi,
Charles Mingus,
Motorama,
Johnny Clarke,
The Blues Magoos,
Letta Mbulu,
The Electric Prunes,
Donald Byrd,
Arab on Radar,
The Busters,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fela Kuti,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Searchers,
Ronnie Foster,
Simply Red,
The Misunderstood,
The Leaves,
The Velvet Underground,
Rufus Thomas,
The Golliwogs,
Zero Boys,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.