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 Zambia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 marimba 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 Mad Mike to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every CMW record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
London Community Gospel Choir,
David McCallum,
Negative Approach,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jeff Lynne,
Wally Richardson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Sonics,
Johnny Clarke,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Rapeman,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gerry Rafferty,
Procol Harum,
Juan Atkins,
Newcleus,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Qualms,
the Association,
Khruangbin,
Andrew Hill,
The Knickerbockers,
Bill Wells,
The Evens,
Buzzcocks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Real Kids,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Siglo XX,
Piero Umiliani,
Mandrill,
Gang Starr,
The Moody Blues,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gabor Szabo,
Alton Ellis,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Robert Hood,
Dawn Penn,
LL Cool J,
Alice Coltrane,
Smog,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Oblivians,
Easy Going,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Residents,
Ken Boothe,
The Star Department,
Infiniti,
The Last Poets,
Ossler,
Skriet,
Echospace,
Letta Mbulu,
Alphaville,
Wolf Eyes,
Thompson Twins,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.