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 Kyrgyzstan and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 the Fania All-Stars to the rap 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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
KRS-One,
Curtis Mayfield,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Symarip,
Vladislav Delay,
Rosa Yemen,
The Sonics,
Carl Craig,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Camberwell Now,
X-Ray Spex,
Joey Negro,
Cheater Slicks,
Darondo,
The Blues Magoos,
Niagra,
Funkadelic,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Circle Jerks,
Interpol,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rakim,
the Human League,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Silicon Teens,
D'Angelo,
Lungfish,
Sixth Finger,
the Soft Cell,
Robert Hood,
Quando Quango,
Alison Limerick,
Pagans,
Yaz,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ossler,
Dead Boys,
Second Layer,
8 Eyed Spy,
Animal Collective,
Faust,
Bobby Womack,
Terry Callier,
Bluetip,
Japan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Scientists,
Drexciya,
Marine Girls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Outsiders,
The Flesh Eaters,
Brothers Johnson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kerri Chandler,
Juan Atkins,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Zeros,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.