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 Ukraine and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 synthesizer 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 Vainqueur to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
E-Dancer,
Patti Smith,
Minny Pops,
Con Funk Shun,
Porter Ricks,
John Holt,
Procol Harum,
Kurtis Blow,
Excepter,
The Monks,
Stereo Dub,
Jacob Miller,
H. Thieme,
K-Klass,
Robert Wyatt,
Fugazi,
Don Cherry,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Searchers,
Mr. Review,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Victims,
Soft Cell,
Avey Tare,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Fatback Band,
Yusef Lateef,
The Motions,
Pantytec,
T. Rex,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Hardrive,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Fire Engines,
The Red Krayola,
Michelle Simonal,
The Detroit Cobras,
Parry Music,
KRS-One,
Duran Duran,
the Swans,
Slave,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lee Hazlewood,
Cal Tjader,
The Move,
Mission of Burma,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lalo Schifrin,
Cymande,
The Cure,
Johnny Clarke,
Brass Construction,
Faraquet,
Cheater Slicks,
Liliput,
Eve St. Jones,
The Divine Comedy,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.