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 Fiji and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the guitar 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 Scion to the techno 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 Main Source. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth 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?
Duran Duran,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bizarre Inc.,
Todd Rundgren,
Bobby Byrd,
Liliput,
Yellowson,
Davy DMX,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Andrew Hill,
Colin Newman,
Wolf Eyes,
Interpol,
Porter Ricks,
The Five Americans,
David McCallum,
The Smiths,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Barbara Tucker,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Skarface,
June of 44,
Eric B and Rakim,
Maleditus Sound,
48th St. Collective,
Sparks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Howard Jones,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Todd Terry,
The New Christs,
The Modern Lovers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Piero Umiliani,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Flash Fearless,
Delta 5,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Gories,
X-102,
Black Sheep,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Michelle Simonal,
Masters at Work,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mars,
Aural Exciters,
The Last Poets,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bill Wells,
Accadde A,
Minnie Riperton,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ponytail,
The Tremeloes,
The Offenders,
The Misunderstood,
Eric Copeland,
Gang Green,
Lightning Bolt,
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.