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 Cambodia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Curtis Mayfield to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane 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 rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kenny Larkin,
Kayak,
The Selecter,
Rufus Thomas,
Shuggie Otis,
Magazine,
Bill Near,
The Five Americans,
EPMD,
Ralphi Rosario,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Los Fastidios,
KRS-One,
The Cowsills,
Section 25,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cal Tjader,
The Standells,
Maurizio,
Peter & Gordon,
MC5,
Delta 5,
The American Breed,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Alice Coltrane,
Flamin' Groovies,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ornette Coleman,
Crooked Eye,
The Mojo Men,
Grey Daturas,
John Cale,
June of 44,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Golliwogs,
Don Cherry,
Chris & Cosey,
T. Rex,
Barbara Tucker,
Wasted Youth,
Basic Channel,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sonny Sharrock,
Flash Fearless,
Sexual Harrassment,
Roy Ayers,
Lucky Dragons,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Germs,
The Divine Comedy,
Bob Dylan,
Pierre Henry,
Smog,
Eden Ahbez,
Model 500,
Bluetip,
F. McDonald,
The Wake,
T.S.O.L.,
Lungfish,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.