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 United Kingdom and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 808 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 Big Daddy Kane 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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cybotron,
Susan Cadogan,
Rod Modell,
Schoolly D,
Porter Ricks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Music Machine,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Girls At Our Best!,
John Lydon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Symarip,
T. Rex,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Shoche,
Bang On A Can,
Lalann,
The Victims,
June of 44,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mary Jane Girls,
Charles Mingus,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Franke,
Davy DMX,
Lower 48,
Das Ding,
James White and The Blacks,
Whodini,
Khruangbin,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bobby Womack,
The Blackbyrds,
Todd Rundgren,
Boredoms,
Unwound,
Erasure,
Scan 7,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
China Crisis,
Motorama,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Desert Stars,
Camberwell Now,
Aaron Thompson,
The Cure,
Barrington Levy,
Grey Daturas,
The Smiths,
MC5,
Heaven 17,
Avey Tare,
The Grass Roots,
James Chance & The Contortions,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.