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 Somalia and from Manchester.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 DJ Sneak to the punk 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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pagans,
The Black Dice,
Lungfish,
Au Pairs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Neon Judgement,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nas,
Josef K,
X-101,
Stiv Bators,
K-Klass,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Metal Thangz,
The J.B.'s,
Organ,
Eric Copeland,
Easy Going,
Stereo Dub,
Danielle Patucci,
The Smiths,
Alton Ellis,
The Fall,
D'Angelo,
Rotary Connection,
Lower 48,
Tres Demented,
Q65,
Slick Rick,
Qualms,
Peter and Kerry,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lucky Dragons,
Model 500,
Zapp,
Wally Richardson,
Groovy Waters,
Whodini,
Kenny Larkin,
Mission of Burma,
The Zeros,
Monks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Todd Terry,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ultra Naté,
David Bowie,
Robert Wyatt,
Reagan Youth,
Prince Buster,
Anakelly,
Marmalade,
Ohio Players,
Ice-T,
Bootsy Collins,
Japan,
Underground Resistance,
The Mojo Men,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.