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 Germany and from Lille.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Minny Pops to the rock 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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Electric Prunes,
The Trojans,
Lyres,
The Knickerbockers,
H. Thieme,
Delon & Dalcan,
Aswad,
Leonard Cohen,
The Fuzztones,
Bill Near,
Throbbing Gristle,
Nas,
The Real Kids,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Television,
The Wake,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Au Pairs,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rites of Spring,
Ornette Coleman,
Cal Tjader,
Bluetip,
Stiv Bators,
The Beau Brummels,
Q and Not U,
The Last Poets,
Eve St. Jones,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Residents,
The Zeros,
Goldenarms,
Siglo XX,
Barrington Levy,
Boz Scaggs,
Popol Vuh,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pylon,
MDC,
Jawbox,
Blancmange,
Brothers Johnson,
Saccharine Trust,
Silicon Teens,
Kurtis Blow,
Interpol,
Johnny Clarke,
Vladislav Delay,
The Saints,
Stereo Dub,
Radiopuhelimet,
Drexciya,
The Skatalites,
Tim Buckley,
MC5,
Prince Buster,
Outsiders,
Rekid,
Masters at Work,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.