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 Venezuela and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Paris.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Mandrill to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four 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 rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Silicon Teens,
Joe Smooth,
Joe Finger,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Loose Ends,
Alice Coltrane,
Joy Division,
Blossom Toes,
Tommy Roe,
Althea and Donna,
Radiopuhelimet,
Vainqueur,
Bobby Womack,
Rekid,
Deepchord,
Bill Near,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Hardrive,
Fela Kuti,
Byron Stingily,
Erykah Badu,
T.S.O.L.,
Arab on Radar,
Deakin,
The Mojo Men,
Kerri Chandler,
Eddi Front,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
PIL,
Sex Pistols,
Robert Wyatt,
Amon Düül II,
kango's stein massive,
Aaron Thompson,
Buzzcocks,
Janne Schatter,
Peter & Gordon,
New Age Steppers,
The Gladiators,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Babytalk,
Sister Nancy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Angels of Light,
DJ Style,
The Fire Engines,
The Searchers,
Second Layer,
Echospace,
Girls At Our Best!,
Darondo,
Bobby Byrd,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bill Wells,
Gregory Isaacs,
Amazonics,
Junior Murvin,
Niagra,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nas,
Severed Heads,
Marc Almond,
Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef.
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.