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 Djibouti and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yusef Lateef,
Mad Mike,
Jacques Brel,
Roger Hodgson,
Jesper Dahlback,
Amazonics,
Charles Mingus,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Stetsasonic,
The Cure,
Juan Atkins,
Terry Callier,
Skaos,
Fugazi,
Bob Dylan,
Boz Scaggs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Pop Group,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Brick,
Suicide,
Donny Hathaway,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Skatalites,
Swell Maps,
These Immortal Souls,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Sound,
Slick Rick,
The Standells,
Lower 48,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bronski Beat,
The Electric Prunes,
Flamin' Groovies,
Livin' Joy,
10cc,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Althea and Donna,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Fortunes,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Human League,
Half Japanese,
LL Cool J,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Minny Pops,
Boredoms,
Junior Murvin,
Stereo Dub,
The Detroit Cobras,
Magma,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.