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 Nigeria and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Sex Pistols to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Soul II Soul. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
World's Most,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bob Dylan,
Eve St. Jones,
June of 44,
Sonic Youth,
Nation of Ulysses,
H. Thieme,
Derrick May,
John Holt,
Traffic Nightmare,
John Coltrane,
Pussy Galore,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Cramps,
the Germs,
The Cure,
Lightning Bolt,
The Smiths,
The Seeds,
Eurythmics,
Derrick Morgan,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Faraquet,
The Electric Prunes,
Duran Duran,
Davy DMX,
Drexciya,
The United States of America,
The Walker Brothers,
Smog,
Morten Harket,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
David Axelrod,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lower 48,
The Blackbyrds,
Henry Cow,
Sound Behaviour,
Pagans,
Chris & Cosey,
Bush Tetras,
The Sound,
The Dirtbombs,
Barrington Levy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Graham Central Station,
The Techniques,
Black Pus,
Scan 7,
Jeff Mills,
Cluster,
Althea and Donna,
The Buckinghams,
Magazine,
Oblivians,
Young Marble Giants,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Fire Engines,
Supertramp,
Hasil Adkins,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.