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 Romania and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Cal Tjader to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
B.T. Express,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Skatalites,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Porter Ricks,
Von Mondo,
The Smoke,
Radio Birdman,
Black Moon,
Aswad,
Ultimate Spinach,
Accadde A,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Stiv Bators,
Average White Band,
The Music Machine,
Camberwell Now,
The Durutti Column,
The Moody Blues,
Jerry's Kids,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Victims,
Minnie Riperton,
The Associates,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kaleidoscope,
Minny Pops,
Hot Snakes,
Mad Mike,
These Immortal Souls,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rapeman,
Sister Nancy,
Idris Muhammad,
The Young Rascals,
Blossom Toes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Trumans Water,
Jacob Miller,
The American Breed,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Amon Düül,
Sällskapet,
Y Pants,
Bush Tetras,
PIL,
The Litter,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lalann,
In Retrospect,
Arab on Radar,
Shuggie Otis,
Wally Richardson,
Index,
John Cale,
Ronnie Foster,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.