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 Bahamas and from London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
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 Marshall Jefferson to the rap 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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas 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 snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lizzy Mercier Descloux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Soul II Soul,
Trumans Water,
Howard Jones,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Selecter,
Gichy Dan,
Duran Duran,
Avey Tare,
Bush Tetras,
Skarface,
Unwound,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Warren Ellis,
The Names,
The Saints,
Marvin Gaye,
The Index,
Mr. Review,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Tres Demented,
Lindisfarne,
Nick Fraelich,
Max Romeo,
Urselle,
Tim Buckley,
Vladislav Delay,
The Trojans,
Sun Ra,
DJ Sneak,
Arab on Radar,
L. Decosne,
Robert Hood,
The Toasters,
Supertramp,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Morten Harket,
The Remains,
Model 500,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Swans,
Cecil Taylor,
Fluxion,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ken Boothe,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Laurel Aitken,
Cameo,
Newcleus,
K-Klass,
Derrick May,
Nik Kershaw,
Livin' Joy,
Camouflage,
Metal Thangz,
the Germs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kurtis Blow,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.