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 Dominican Republic and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gang Starr to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shuggie Otis,
The Litter,
Cheater Slicks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Animal Collective,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ice-T,
Los Fastidios,
Roxy Music,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Reuben Wilson,
Amon Düül II,
Rapeman,
Bang On A Can,
Drexciya,
Suicide,
F. McDonald,
Marshall Jefferson,
Hoover,
Eddi Front,
Sex Pistols,
Unwound,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nas,
Heaven 17,
Guru Guru,
Joyce Sims,
The Dirtbombs,
The Music Machine,
Youth Brigade,
Banda Bassotti,
Khruangbin,
Arab on Radar,
David Axelrod,
Connie Case,
Crooked Eye,
Scratch Acid,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
T. Rex,
Bush Tetras,
Intrusion,
Minutemen,
June Days,
Lightning Bolt,
Echospace,
The Zeros,
Juan Atkins,
Skaos,
Nick Fraelich,
MDC,
JFA,
Ohio Players,
The United States of America,
Bill Near,
Malaria!,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Misunderstood,
The Motions,
X-Ray Spex,
Mo-Dettes,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.