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 Suriname and from Columbus.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Visage to the rap 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Andrew Hill,
Iggy Pop,
Qualms,
Morten Harket,
Sixth Finger,
Joensuu 1685,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Pus,
Sun City Girls,
The Litter,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Scrapy,
The Saints,
Popol Vuh,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Velvet Underground,
Sugar Minott,
Nirvana,
Duran Duran,
Patti Smith,
Little Man,
Howard Jones,
The Leaves,
Motorama,
Absolute Body Control,
UT,
The Real Kids,
E-Dancer,
the Fania All-Stars,
Agent Orange,
Bill Near,
Donald Byrd,
Todd Terry,
Sandy B,
Ronnie Foster,
Joy Division,
Bluetip,
Ossler,
OOIOO,
Juan Atkins,
Brothers Johnson,
Harry Pussy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Smog,
The Evens,
This Heat,
Lyres,
Ice-T,
Gong,
Skaos,
Freddie Wadling,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Aloha Tigers,
Arab on Radar,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Fortunes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Q65,
Gang Gang Dance,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.