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 Philippines and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Rites of Spring to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra 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 grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a China Crisis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Evens,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lindisfarne,
Harmonia,
T.S.O.L.,
The Selecter,
Danielle Patucci,
Brass Construction,
The Pretty Things,
Tommy Roe,
UT,
Soft Machine,
A Certain Ratio,
Sister Nancy,
Cymande,
Faraquet,
The Durutti Column,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The New Christs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eli Mardock,
Animal Collective,
The Kinks,
Boredoms,
Kenny Larkin,
Quando Quango,
Arthur Verocai,
Mandrill,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gang of Four,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Nik Kershaw,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Seeds,
Soul II Soul,
Unwound,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Robert Wyatt,
Circle Jerks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Essential Logic,
Zapp,
Shuggie Otis,
Marvin Gaye,
Stiv Bators,
DNA,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nation of Ulysses,
Erykah Badu,
Aural Exciters,
Camberwell Now,
Ten City,
Symarip,
Ossler,
The Mummies,
The Remains,
Model 500,
T. Rex,
Roy Ayers,
Alton Ellis,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.