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 Moldova and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe 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 Piero Umiliani to the funk 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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Hoover,
China Crisis,
Glambeats Corp.,
New York Dolls,
Nils Olav,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Maurizio,
Excepter,
H. Thieme,
The Cowsills,
Ossler,
The Walker Brothers,
Pantytec,
Grey Daturas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Robert Wyatt,
The Doors,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Motions,
Half Japanese,
Eddi Front,
Neu!,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Deepchord,
Sugar Minott,
Urselle,
Sun City Girls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
DJ Sneak,
Delon & Dalcan,
R.M.O.,
Cheater Slicks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Carl Craig,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kayak,
A Certain Ratio,
Bizarre Inc.,
Heaven 17,
K-Klass,
The Remains,
The Gories,
David Axelrod,
Chris Corsano,
Rotary Connection,
The New Christs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Brand Nubian,
James White and The Blacks,
Country Teasers,
Cecil Taylor,
The Real Kids,
The Invisible,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Public Image Ltd.,
Magazine,
Goldenarms,
Rakim,
Kenny Larkin,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo.
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.