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 Turkmenistan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 CMW to the rap 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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Girls At Our Best!,
Vladislav Delay,
The Black Dice,
Tubeway Army,
KRS-One,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Invisible,
Subhumans,
The Pop Group,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Japan,
Quadrant,
Goldenarms,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sun Ra,
Rhythm & Sound,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Kinks,
Little Man,
Negative Approach,
The Beau Brummels,
Bill Near,
Inner City,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Music Machine,
Brand Nubian,
Los Fastidios,
Spoonie Gee,
Sarah Menescal,
The Fuzztones,
Au Pairs,
The Blackbyrds,
Pussy Galore,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Stetsasonic,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
June of 44,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Q65,
Rites of Spring,
Lightning Bolt,
The Sonics,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cluster,
Frankie Knuckles,
Carl Craig,
Fad Gadget,
The Cure,
Public Enemy,
The Electric Prunes,
The Birthday Party,
Kurtis Blow,
Man Parrish,
Babytalk,
Deakin,
Bill Wells,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Masters at Work,
Joey Negro,
Scott Walker,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.