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 Cape Verde and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 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 Carl Craig to the electroclash 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Y Pants,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eddi Front,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Main Source,
Deepchord,
Panda Bear,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Black Moon,
John Lydon,
Fear,
The Pretty Things,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Slackers,
Los Fastidios,
Amazonics,
Lungfish,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ohio Players,
Faraquet,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Martian,
The Knickerbockers,
DJ Sneak,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Neu!,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rufus Thomas,
Bill Near,
Oneida,
Maleditus Sound,
Nation of Ulysses,
Das Ding,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Make Up,
The Mighty Diamonds,
U.S. Maple,
The Mummies,
Bobby Hutcherson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Cameo,
David Bowie,
Absolute Body Control,
Bauhaus,
Bizarre Inc.,
OOIOO,
Television,
The Monochrome Set,
Scrapy,
The Buckinghams,
ABBA,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Camberwell Now,
Tomorrow,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Robert Wyatt,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.