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 Ethiopia and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Kevin Saunderson to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water 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 '70s 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
The Cure,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Peter and Kerry,
the Bar-Kays,
Kurtis Blow,
Bobby Sherman,
Nick Fraelich,
Stetsasonic,
Rakim,
Charles Mingus,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Morten Harket,
Lyres,
Brothers Johnson,
Mantronix,
Tropical Tobacco,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sexual Harrassment,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Organ,
Los Fastidios,
Letta Mbulu,
The Wake,
The Fortunes,
Au Pairs,
Man Parrish,
Camberwell Now,
Franke,
Sällskapet,
Black Moon,
Slick Rick,
Jacob Miller,
Robert Görl,
Zero Boys,
Newcleus,
Radio Birdman,
Bill Wells,
Metal Thangz,
Tomorrow,
Sex Pistols,
Albert Ayler,
The Kinks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Deakin,
Suburban Knight,
The Index,
John Coltrane,
Audionom,
The Pretty Things,
the Normal,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Neon Judgement,
kango's stein massive,
The Moody Blues,
ABBA,
Bobby Womack,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tears for Fears,
Negative Approach,
LL Cool J,
Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra.
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.