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 Turkey and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 chamberlin 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 Sixth Finger to the electroclash 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 The Young Rascals. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Ludus,
AZ,
In Retrospect,
Camberwell Now,
The American Breed,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Suicide,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Q65,
Eric B and Rakim,
Davy DMX,
Eurythmics,
The J.B.'s,
Connie Case,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Con Funk Shun,
Dual Sessions,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Max Romeo,
Average White Band,
Roxette,
the Soft Cell,
Unrelated Segments,
Fela Kuti,
Nick Fraelich,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Little Man,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Doors,
Byron Stingily,
Sparks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
World's Most,
Charles Mingus,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kurtis Blow,
Maurizio,
The Seeds,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Monochrome Set,
The Happenings,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Fania All-Stars,
Funkadelic,
Hasil Adkins,
Lower 48,
Trumans Water,
The Fuzztones,
Roxy Music,
Lightning Bolt,
Sight & Sound,
Zero Boys,
Warsaw,
Angry Samoans,
Fluxion,
Kaleidoscope,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.