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 Ecuador and from Bologna.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Rhythm & Sound to the jazz 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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dennis Brown,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Excepter,
Gang Gang Dance,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Crash Course in Science,
Hasil Adkins,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dawn Penn,
The Litter,
Henry Cow,
This Heat,
Idris Muhammad,
Basic Channel,
The Flesh Eaters,
Minor Threat,
The Grass Roots,
Johnny Clarke,
Drexciya,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Detroit Cobras,
Khruangbin,
James White and The Blacks,
Outsiders,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bad Manners,
Livin' Joy,
Black Sheep,
The Kinks,
Steve Hackett,
Lungfish,
Max Romeo,
The Blackbyrds,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Alarm Clocks,
Peter and Kerry,
Talk Talk,
EPMD,
Tubeway Army,
Grey Daturas,
Soul II Soul,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Howard Jones,
Pagans,
Tim Buckley,
Jeff Mills,
Alton Ellis,
Scrapy,
Andrew Hill,
The Raincoats,
Nas,
Average White Band,
Jacques Brel,
DNA,
The Move,
The Zeros,
Banda Bassotti,
Cheater Slicks,
Camberwell Now,
Popol Vuh,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.