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 Barbados and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manila.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Faust to the jazz 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
The J.B.'s,
Lungfish,
Barry Ungar,
Excepter,
Brick,
Skarface,
Letta Mbulu,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Move,
Steve Hackett,
Stereo Dub,
Magma,
The Mummies,
Brand Nubian,
Chris & Cosey,
F. McDonald,
Massinfluence,
New York Dolls,
The Smiths,
Alison Limerick,
Organ,
Pierre Henry,
Scott Walker,
T. Rex,
Gichy Dan,
The Last Poets,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Black Moon,
Rites of Spring,
Wolf Eyes,
Cal Tjader,
A Certain Ratio,
The Happenings,
Black Bananas,
Alphaville,
The Black Dice,
Silicon Teens,
Jimmy McGriff,
JFA,
The Moleskins,
Mo-Dettes,
Piero Umiliani,
MC5,
The Velvet Underground,
Danielle Patucci,
The Smoke,
Dark Day,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Faraquet,
Carl Craig,
Wings,
Kerri Chandler,
Stockholm Monsters,
Angry Samoans,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sugar Minott,
Sister Nancy,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.