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 Mozambique and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lou Reed to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Organ,
Das Ding,
Jimmy McGriff,
Wasted Youth,
Alphaville,
Tom Boy,
Deepchord,
Althea and Donna,
Roy Ayers,
Alice Coltrane,
Country Teasers,
Fat Boys,
Crime,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Freddie Wadling,
Gong,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
This Heat,
Dawn Penn,
The Neon Judgement,
Interpol,
Agitation Free,
The Move,
The Blues Magoos,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
David McCallum,
Donald Byrd,
Kas Product,
The United States of America,
Average White Band,
The Residents,
The Slits,
Mission of Burma,
The Happenings,
Rufus Thomas,
Absolute Body Control,
Matthew Halsall,
Hot Snakes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Morten Harket,
Aural Exciters,
Marc Almond,
The Busters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Radiopuhelimet,
Dorothy Ashby,
Malaria!,
John Foxx,
The Electric Prunes,
Johnny Osbourne,
Camberwell Now,
Loose Ends,
Electric Prunes,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Toasters,
Rhythm & Sound,
Joensuu 1685,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Golliwogs,
Rosa Yemen,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.